


The Moon Called Me Home to You

by Orianess



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Additional characters will appear but briefly, And maybe an OC or two, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Magical Shenanigans, Modern Day Fairy Tale, Pining, Slow Burn, Some descriptions of gore and violence, Tags to be added, Witch doctor!Jack, alternative universe, cursed werewolf!Mac
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orianess/pseuds/Orianess
Summary: It is indeed quite a tale. Fairytale-esque in someways.This is the story of how a wolf finds a witch doctor and together they try to change the hands of fate.
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 179
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, this is my first time doing a project this big in a long time and real life has been kicking my butt. I’ll do my best to post regularly, probably once a week if possible. Hope you all enjoy the story.
> 
> A million thanks to KatieComma who has been my rough draft beta and personal cheerleader for this very extensive project. Thanks sister, love you ❤️

Jack doesn’t take appointments in the mornings because he usually has too much to do. Horses needing feeding, as well as the chickens. The greenhouse plants have to be checked, rotated and watered. He has to harvest anything ready for jarring and set up ingredients for prep before he works on brewing. Follow up calls take place before any appointments he has set. He’s got a lot to keep him busy and he’s a one man operation.

Which is why he’s a little annoyed and more than a little surprised when a rental plated tan suburban starts making its way down the gravel drive of his far from town ranch. He doesn’t particularly care for unexpected visitors, as they usually bring bad news and worse emotions but he tries to not be defensive. They could just be a client, here early by mistake. They might be tourists passing through looking for the town about ten miles up the road.

They could be reporters looking for another thing to put in the tabloids after one of his supposed ‘miracles’.

The suburban pulls up alongside his truck in front of the house and Jack steps off the porch to wait to greet them. A young guy, mid twenties if Jack guessed, jumps out of the driver seat and a, well, a wolf if he’s not mistaken, is out just after him, tethered by a leash and what looks like a therapy dog’s harness.

They’re a strange sight as they come forward to say hello.

Jack gives them a small nod and is met by the friendly grin of the young man, hand extended for a handshake even though he’s still a few yards away.

“You must be Jack!” The guy says, and Jack has to smile at his undeniable geniality as he offers up his own hand. The young man takes it and gives it a vigorous excited shake.

“That’s me.” Jack agrees, “but I don’t believe I know you.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that...” Bozer chuckles a little nervously, looking Jack up and down with wide surprised eyes. “Call me Bozer, everyone does. Sorry, I just- Dude, you look exactly how Caleb described you!”

Jack pauses. “Caleb?”

Bozer grins. “Uh Caleb Worthy. He’s a cousin of mine. He said you guys served together and-“

Jack frowns, scratching at his neck. “Hadn’t talked to Caleb in... a long damn time. What did he say about me?”

Bozer, to his credit, doesn't stop smiling but he shrugs.

“That you’re built like a brick house, pythons for arms, mad dog smile but a teddy bear underneath.”

Jack rolls his eyes, yeah, long time Delta buddy Caleb Worthy would describe him that way, but that’s not what he meant. “I meant about why he sent you to me?”

Bozer breaks into an embarrassed little laugh. “Oh right. Well uh, we have a little problem on our hands and Caleb suggested we see you. Figured if you couldn’t help us completely you might know which direction for us to go looking in for help.”

Jack eyes Bozer then the wolf sitting docile and alert by his feet, golden intelligent eyes studying Jack intensely. “Who’s we exactly?”

“Well, it’s actually my friend here. This is Mac.” Bozer gestured at the wolf who doesn’t break his stare with Jack. The wolf is absolutely massive, now that Jack is so close to him, easily a hundred and sixty pounds if not more, and he’s roughly the height of a big Great Dane. He’s a soft blonde color, unusual but exotic, and the mane of his thick fur is so broad it reminds Jack of a lion. He certainly is beautiful.

Jack laughs a little quietly and spreads his hands in front of him to show he’s at a loss. “Dude, no offense to you, but I ain’t no veterinarian. I do some mild healin’ and what have you but animals are not my specialty. If you really need help-“

Bozer holds up his hand in a silent plea for Jack to listen and pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. Jack sighs, crossing his arms and waits to hear him out.

“I read on your website you’ll do a psychic read for fifty dollars an hour. I’ll give you a hundred dollars right now if you’ll put your hand on him and just tell me what you see. If you don’t see anything we’ll drive back out of here right now.”

Jack glares at the kid and then the wolf. What the hell kind of game is this? The wolf looks up at Bozer and his eyes look vibrant molten yellow in the bright Texas sun before he pads forward to sit right in front of Jack with a patient expression. 

Jack can see in Bozer’s face that he’s serious and sighs, agitated, feeling like he’s being played for a fool. “Fine. But if he bites me, I ain’t above punchin’ ya for it.”

Jack kneels down and offers his hand for the wolf to sniff but the wolf doesn’t react other than to stare Jack down. Jack closes his eyes to find the deeper sense in his mind that recognizes energy and focuses on it, bringing it to the surface, before reaching one hand forward to rest on the wolf’s cheek.

The flash of animal sharpened senses picking up every sound from the ranch, every scent of earth and beast and wind whip through his chest at high speed but behind that is a pair of blue eyes, blonde hair, a sad smile and a lonely heart. Jack wants to recoil, because it’s hard to look at it. Its like looking into a rippling pond with two people standing beside it, the reflections bouncing together and all over the place too unstable to be clear or like an old photo with a different negative placed over the top. There’s someone else within the wolf, behind it, and he doesn’t understand how.

Jack pulls his hand back slowly and watches the wolf tilt its head in consideration, it’s eyes far too focused to be as animal as he had assumed.

“What are you?” Jack whispers and the wolf whines quietly before looking back at Bozer who shrugs meekly when Jack turns his eyes to him.

“I know you do your work by appointment but I didn’t figure you’d believe me if I called and told you this stuff over the phone.”

Jack sighs. This is going to be a long day. He stands, turns back toward the house and gesturing for them to follow he says, “Clearly this situation has a story and I need to hear it before I can be sure if I can help you. Come on in and let’s talk shop.”

——-

Jack paces the length of the kitchen as he mulls over everything he’s been told, pausing now and again to observe his guests.

It is indeed quite a tale. Fairytale-esque in someways.

A familial werewolf curse, passed down through numerous generations. Probably hundreds of years if Jack could guess roughly based on the curse alone. Magic of this quality and strength doesn’t exist in the world anymore and whoever placed the curse was clearly well-versed in the art.

And there’s no denying that what he heard is the truth. He could feel the magic, however faintly, attached to the wolf when he laid his hand on him. Bozer remains quiet and the wolf sits patiently beside him.

After a moment Jack sighs before he paces to the counter to retrieve a cup of coffee. “I’ll be honest with ya, this might be a little out of my league, fellas.”

Bozer looks disappointed and settles his arms on the table like a petulant child being told he’s grounded. “So you can’t help us?” 

Jack shakes his head as he sips from his mug, grimacing at the bitter lukewarm drink. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying I can try to help but it’s not as simple as yes or no in circumstances like these. Curse removal is... It’s complicated.”

Bozer looks down at Mac who makes a low grumbling huff that is clearly a question mark for a nonverbal being. He looks back up and asks, “can you explain why it’s complicated?”

Jack takes another drink from the mug and settles himself back against the counter as he takes time to think of the best explanation. “Magic is energy beyond the mortal world, at least for most. It doesn’t have a singular source, and It has been called by many names over the centuries humans have been alive. Voodoo, chi, witchcraft. Our modern peers have started to understand It better, so today we call it science. What we can’t explain as science, others define as paranormal. But the truth is, this energy is everywhere, within all things and with focus, by any name, It’s still magic. It can be accessed but It is not a wish grantor, It’s vastly powerful, a literal force of nature. Working with Magic is a dangerous art. It moves on Its own whims, like the ocean. Unbreakable, unending. It is to be respected or It will destroy you.   
Finding an answer to this predicament, if there is one, will depend entirely upon the amount of time we can spend searching for the solution. You’re trying to reverse the flow of a river fighting this battle. It might be done, but how we do that is the real question. So with that in mind, I have a question for you.”

Bozer looks a little nervous but he nods so Jack continues. “I take it from the rent-a-beast out there you guys aren’t from around here, that right?”

At the young man’s nod, Jack sighs. “I have some books and some contacts I can access to research this but it’s going to take quite a bit of time. Weeks, more probable, months. And I need access to the curse’s subject to better understand the nature of the spell work. How long can you boys afford to stay is my point?” 

The wolf and Bozer share a look and the younger man answers. “I have work I have to get back to in California but Mac could stay here if that’s okay with you.”

That brings Jack up short a bit. He hadn’t expected them to be so ready to make that decision but he’s glad they seem committed to the cause, not resistant to his suggestions as most people are when they first come for his help. He nods. “That’s fine with me but I need to know how to look after your friend here. And we need to discuss my terms for his staying and your payment for my services.”

They spend the next hour going over all the details and making plans. Bozer has a smart phone for Mac to use in his human times, which are to take place during the nights of the full moon, and a small duffle of clothes for Mac to use when he needs them and Jack sets those aside in the guest room.

Bozer agrees to stay for the night and head out in the morning for home. He tells Jack he wants to check in with Mac once a week via call and Jack has no problem with agreeing to that. Seems fair given that he is a stranger, even if he’s going to be helping them.

They go over every question Jack can think of, little details about Mac’s childhood, his parents, his birthday. When he’s done with Bozer, he turns his queries to Mac.

“Can you understand me clearly?” Jack asks and Mac dips his muzzle just slightly, as a tiny nod. 

“That’s great. I’ve got a couple guidelines for you, alright?”

Nod.

“I won’t be able to study on your curse all day. I still have to run my business and tend to my animals. While you’re here, you’ve got free run of the property, no restrictions. The chickens are free range and they are off limits even for play chasin’, you got me?”

Mac snorts but gives a sharp nod.

“You are welcome to explore and roam as you like, the triple line barbed wire fence is the property line, but I’d steer clear of the lower valley. It’s gettin’ cooler and snakes aren’t usually a problem but most of the rattlesnakes I’ve ever found out here are fond of that lower scrubland. If you do feel like wandering past the property line, keep your eyes open and ears up, there are predators out there. Coyotes, bobcats, cougars, you name it. I also wouldn’t walk inside the horse paddocks. Most my horses don’t tend to spook easy but they’re still liable to kick your brains in if you surprise ‘em. Cool?”

Nod.

“How do you prefer to get your meals? You hunt?”

Mac shakes his head, flicks his ears back, clearly unhappy about the question. Jack shrugs.

“Ok. I usually make breakfast and then eat a late dinner. If you get hungry between then, let me know and we’ll work something out for you, alright?”

Nod.

“I have clients come on and off the property in the afternoon. Some of them will be tempted to pet you, especially the clients that come with children. Will you be alright with that?”

Nod.

“Good, but if you change your mind, I’m sure we can make arrangements to keep it from being an issue. I don’t think there’s anything else you need to know so I suppose we’ll leave it at that for now. So... Welcome to Dalton Ranch, guys. Mi casa es su casa.”


	2. Chapter 2

Mac is nearly bursting with the urge to move after Jack ends up taking his leave from them, excusing himself so that he can start getting ready for his clients. He tells Bozer and Mac they’re welcome to wander the grounds while he works and he’ll be finished by four o’clock after which he’ll make dinner.

Bozer unclips Mac from the confines of the harness and leash and gestures for him to lead the way.

He is eager for the chance to check out the grounds, even if it’s a cursory look only. He rarely gets to wander unleashed in LA, the tiny twenty by thirty foot humble backyard of Bozer’s city home the extent of his roam-able kingdom. There are so many scents and sights to take in. The wind is crisp in his nose and he can smell so much for such long distances here. It’s exciting and his legs tingle with a need to run.

Bozer must be able to read his excitement because the second they get to the front deck, he waves his hand forward. “Don’t hold back on my account.”

Mac lets his tongue loll out of his mouth in a playful gesture, the one that always gets Bozer to laugh, and trots ahead. They wander all over the grounds, to the stables, the green house, the chicken coop and everywhere between. Above all, they take in the surrounding mountains around them and the way Jack’s little home seems to be nestled in the shadow of the valley. It’s really warm for early November but being this is a mountain home, Mac wonders how long that’ll be the case.

They end up heading back to the house and they catch the tail end of Jack finishing a session with a client on the front porch. He gives a young brunette woman a set of instructions while handing her a small paper bag.

“Remember beautiful.” He says with a warm smile. “One teaspoon of the red one in your morning tea and one teaspoon at night with water. The other one...?” He prompts and she smiles back widely, clutching the bag close to her chest.

“Is two teaspoons every four hours for sickness.”

Jack nods like a pleased father and claps his hands together happily. “Excellent. You just give me a call if you have any questions.”

The young woman steps off the porch and heads to an older beat up pick up truck before turning back down the long driveway. Jack turns to greet them as they walk back up with a small nod.

“Reckon you boys are pretty hungry.”

Bozer glances at his watch. “You said after four. It’s barely three. Not that I’m complaining.”

Jack shrugs. “Yeah my last one is running late but there’s no reason you guys can’t eat a snack while you wait. My kitchen’s free to you.”

Jack ends up leading the way back into the house and as they go in Bozer clears his throat. “So Jack, can you tell me what it is your doing for your appointments exactly or is that a trade secret?”

Jack looks up from clearing a sitting room table, gathering up a cloth and deck of cards to be set out for the next person. “Well I suppose the most general explanation I can give is to call m’self a witch doctor. Folks havin’ trouble finding solutions to chronic pain or common issues will come to me for advice or occasional medicine.”

“You can legally do that? You don’t need a doctor’s degree or something?”

Jack chuckles. “Who said I don’t have one? My classification of work is as a clinical herbalist. And that’s not fancy talk for one of those pyramid scheme online shit shows that say you can cure cancer with a couple drops of rosemary oil. I went to school to do this, got a masters degree that I earned thank you very much. I guess you could relate what I do to a pharmacist except I use older methods to do the majority of my work. Instead of compounding a set of chemically created drugs, I’ll find a mixture of herbs that can get the same effect and charge the client half the cost of what big Pharma does.”

Mac wishes he could ask more about that, it sounds fascinating. Bozer though is more interested in the nature of the work, not the science of it, so he asks, “but you also charge for your... other services.”

“Yep. Hence the title. ‘Witch’ doctor. Not every solution can be found via medicine. But I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call a halt on the interrogation for now. We can pick this conversation up after dinner, right? My client just pulled up. Oh and before you go, maybe I could ask a favor for when you’re done?”

Bozer glances at Mac and shrugs. “Sure, happy to help.”

Jack gives a wide grin. “Thanks. When you’re done eating, if you’d go to the green house I need you to turn on the sprinkler system. It’ll be a black box on the farthest wall from the entrance. A water symbol on it. Open it up and turn the left one on. You guys are welcome to look around inside but stay away from the section of bushes in the back right hand corner. Especially you, Mac.”

Mac can’t help but tilt his head at this instruction, the severity of his tone, and Jack waves a hand at him. 

“I’m not saying I think you’d be tempted to mess with my garden but the plants in that corner all have toxins on their leaves or in their berries. Your sensitive nose might get burned if you get too close alright?”

Mac is relieved that the orders are for his safety, not a criticism.

Bozer and Mac bow out as the front door bangs open to a cheery woman’s resounding voice as she greets Jack like a best friend. Bozer makes them fold over peanut butter sandwiches and they slip outside to the green house behind the back porch.

It’s a huge domed style building, wide and long, and Bozer whistles appreciatively, remarks that this place is bigger than his backyard. As they step inside, the balmy humidity of the air clings to them and the scent of freshly churned soil is everywhere. Every variety of sharp and sweet herbal scent is around them, so thoroughly rooted in his nose Mac’s certain he’ll be able to smell it in his dreams. He takes a lungful in and decides immediately that this is his favorite place on this ranch, the warm safety of shelter but the surrounding of flowering plants. It’s heavenly and it soothes the mind of his animal side.

Bozer is quick to follow through with Jack’s instructions, and they both can’t resist the urge to wander around the numerous rows of planter beds, admiring the clear amount of time and thought that’s gone into the care for these plants. Not an inch of space is wasted, only a two foot wide walk path separates the multi -tiered gardens, even the space above is made useful with hanging planters. After a few minutes, Bozer points out a small red flag in the farthest corner marking out a five by five foot section.

Mac stays well back as Bozer gets a closer look, whining a little when he kneels down beside it, too close for comfort for plants that are indeed dangerous. He doesn’t need to see them to know they’re toxic, he can smell a sourness in Bozer’s direction and having his brother inches away from them is unnerving.

“I know, man, I just wanted to see what they look like.”

Mac whines again, louder and longer, when Bozer leans over the edge of the boundary wall to get a better look at something, before Jack’s firm voice startles them both.

“I’d step back if I were you...”

Bozer stands right away, the epitome of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, and offers a sheepish smile. “Sorry I thought I saw something moving and I was tryin-“

“That’ll be Rodney.” Jack says and when Bozer gives him an odd look, he comes down to where Bozer is standing. He grabs a long pole from the corner and uses it to push a few branches aside. “Look.”

Curled at ease under the boughs of a thorny bush is a brown mottled snake and Bozer jumps back like Jack might sick it on him. If Mac could laugh, he’d be rolling on the floor over Bozer’s horrified expression.

“No need to be afraid.” Jack promises calmly, letting the shrubbery fall back into place as he sets the pole aside. “Rodney is a rat snake, not venomous. Found him last winter living in here, gettin’ fat on the thieving rats that raid my garden. He eats the pests and doesn’t bother the plants. Far as I’m concerned he’s doin’ me a favor, so I let him stay.”

“Any other friends we should know about?” Bozer asks somewhat sarcastically, but the tone is more from his earlier fright, not any real upset. Jack shrugs unbothered as he grabs a small bottle from the shelf as he goes to head back out.

“Might be more. Just ‘cause I’ve never seen them doesn’t mean they ain’t here somewhere..”

It doesn’t take long for Bozer to insist they leave the garden and Rodney be.

——

When Jack’s finally done, they make plans for dinner. They end up deciding on eating Jack’s leftovers, a smattering of hamburger-helper and some roasted chicken and greens. 

While they’re microwaving things to be an edible temperature, Jack turns to Mac and holds up a plate and a bowl and asks him, “which is better?”

Mac huffs and waves his right paw which Jack mimics, waving the plate. “This one?” So Mac nods. “Flatter’s easier? Doesn’t spill?” He guesses and Mac nods again, unable to keep his tail from giving a half-wag at being delighted to be so easily understood. He doesn’t get to ‘talk’ to others outside of Bozer so it’s a welcome relief to have the opportunity and, beyond that, for it be a positive experience.

He thinks it’s rather nice that Jack asked, that he bothered to care. Its not that Bozer doesn’t care, it’s just easy to forget about the animal-person in the room that doesn’t have easy use of thumbs for holding things in place. And he’s even more surprised when Jack drags a long bench over to the table, easily wide enough to accommodate Mac’s size and the right height so that Mac can eat at the table with them.

Bozer actually looks rather embarrassed at this and he remarks to Mac, “dude I feel like an idiot. I’ve been making you eat in the living room at the coffee table. Totally should have bought one of these a long time ago.”

Mac whines quietly, ears flicking back. He doesn’t want Bozer to feel guilty. He’s done so much for Mac, matters of conveniences had gone right out the window given that Bozer kept him with a roof over his head and fed. Thank god for his childhood best friend, or who knows what would’ve become of him when his dad left.

“Think your friend’s just grateful for your help Bozer.” Jack interjects and they both stare at him. He gives them a self conscious smile as he brings two heated plates of food over, one for Mac and one for Bozer. “Sorry, I’m not used to having anyone around after hours and I forget it’s rude reading someone without warning them you’re doing it.”

That piques Bozer’s interest and Mac’s grateful for a topic change.

“So can you tell us about your ‘other services’ as you call them?” Bozer asks and Jack shrugs.

“Sure, I’ll answer if I can.”

“So what are your abilities exactly?”

“Well... I don’t have a specific power set. It’s not like a superhero’s power to do one thing in particular. I’m gifted at reading energy and manipulating it in the physical world. Meaning, I'm a great deal empathic, able to sense emotion and the energy of... a soul for a lack of better terms. I can move that energy through and around someone to heal or to strengthen them, both mentally and physically.”

“Wow.” Bozer says and Mac would agree. Jack shrugs again, as if this is something mundane anyone could do. “So if I got my finger broken you could fix me? Heal it so it wasn’t broken?”

Jack sighs and Mac can’t help but notice how sad he looks. “Yes but it requires a great deal of energy from me to do so. Healing is tricky work, it can go wrong easily.”

“Really?” Bozer inquires and Jack comes to join them at the table with his own food heated at last.

“Yeah. The best way I can describe it is imagine having a large pitcher of water and a small coke bottle. Trying to push energy for healing into someone is like pouring water from the pitcher into the bottle. It takes practice and a steady hand to not overfill or under-fill the bottle. Too much force and you empty the pitcher by accident leaving you with not enough water for either side.”

“You being the pitcher I take it?” Bozer clarifies and Jack nods again as he digs into his food. “And what happens if you empty the pitcher?”

“The same thing that all things without energy do.”

“Things without energy… you mean you’d die? It could kill you?” Bozer gasps quietly and Jack shrugs.

“Potentially. Or put me in a coma or make me disabled in some other form. Nothing about magic use is precise other than your self control. Handling a force that doesn’t exist on this plane is a challenge and every scenario is different. There’s a reason I do things by appointment regarding that type of work. I am only one person and if I over exert myself, I can’t help anyone, make sense?”

There’s a long pause of silence and Mac turns that thought over in his mind while he nibbles at the chicken Jack cut up for him. It’s an interesting idea, the idea of manipulating the very energy of a living creature for the purpose of healing, but it sounds like a dangerous gamble. 

Bozer must be thinking the same thing because he asks quietly, “You’re speaking from experience on that?”

Jack’s left hand jerks so hard he bumps his plate enough to make it rattle and it takes him a few seconds to speak. “I, uh.... yes. I was speaking from experience, but I’d rather not talk about it if it’s all the same to you.”

“Of course, I’m sorry if I brought up something I shouldn’t have.” Bozer offers sincerely and Jack waves it off but the easiness of his smile from before has been replaced with something more rigid and careful.

“No fault of yours, no harm done. So anyway... enough about me. Tell me about California. What do you do for work?”

Conversation after that is light and neutral between Jack and Bozer, occasional yes or no questions are tossed out to Mac so he doesn’t have to be made a third wheel. The topics span every field, work to family to fun, and Mac decides about an hour into their talk that he thinks Jack is a pretty awesome guy.

Jack is in the middle of laughing at a story of Bozer and Mac’s youthful adventures when a soft chime on a phone brings it all to a close. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Jack frowns at something on the screen before he tucks it away again.

“Fellas, I’m sorry to cut this short but I need to go do my nightly rounds.” Jack says standing from the table, gathering all their plates to head to the sink. “I’ll show you where the guest bed is and shower. You guys are welcome to anything you need.”

They follow Jack to a small bedroom behind the ‘healing room’ as Jack calls it and stops outside the door while Bozer walks in. “I’m sorry it’s not the biggest bed but it’s still pretty comfortable. The second bathroom is here across the hall. The hot water is a bit finicky on this old shower so turn it on and let it run a minute before you jump in. There’s a TV in the den across from the healing room, so help yourselves. Mac, I’m afraid I’ve only got the one spare bed, so it’s either the couch or sharing with Bozer.”

Mac can’t help but pause at the idea that he’s being given the choice, usually it’s just a matter of wherever his body will fit. He had sort of figured Jack wouldn’t want dog smell on his couch and he’d be assigned a spot on the floor with a blanket so he’s more than pleased to have the option. He very deliberately turns so that he’s facing the living room and Jack nods. 

“Couch it is. I’ll get you a blanket from the closet when I come back in from checking on everything.” Jack promises. “Right, so I’ll leave you boys to settle in. I should be back in a half hour.”

They watch Jack retreat and listen to the sound of his heavy boots as they echo on the creaky porch before moving away entirely. Bozer gives Mac an easy smile and asks, “so what do you think? He seems cool?”

Mac nods and flicks his head toward the shower across from them. 

Bozer rolls his eyes as he grabs his bag, “yes mom, shower, I got it.” 

Mac snorts hard like he’s expelling dirt from his nose and Bozer laughs. “I don’t smell that bad do I?”

Mac pointedly sniffs the air and whines dramatically, and Bozer points his finger at him. “Watch it or I’ll toss you in here with me.”

Bozer retreats to the shower and Mac wanders the house. He goes up the stairs mostly just to see where it goes and finds what he supposes is Jack’s bedroom, his bathroom and a small study. When he comes back down the narrow staircase he wanders into the healing room, intrigued by the different smells but more curious about the volumes of books on the standing shelves in the corner.

He’s mystified by the titles on the book spines, each one more strange than the last. Lunar Cycles and History. Medieval Apothecary: a hand guide to tradition. Gems and Chakra: Facts, Fiction and Myths. Astrology and Astronomy: our lessons from the stars. Mac has never wished so badly for a working set of hands, literally longing to grab a book out and flip through the pages. 

He’s in fact so lost in observation he doesn’t hear Jack come in behind him.

“Admiring my collection?” Jack’s gentle voice asks from the doorway and Mac jolts back and away several steps, ears dropping flat to his skull as he tries to communicate an apology. Jack waves his hand easily, coming to kneel down in front of him so that they’re eye level with each other. “You’re good, Mac. I don’t mind you lookin’ around. We’re gonna be seein’ a lot of each other, so we might as well get comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help? Besides the obvious?”

Mac dips his head, considering, but he doesn’t even know where to start so he gives a small shake. Jack nods. “I getcha. I know this is gonna be tricky but we'll figure it out. Do you need anything? Maybe some water before bed? Or some outside time?”

Mac nods and looks over his shoulder at the window and Jack smiles. “Outside? Sure, let’s go.”

Jack lets him out the front door and hangs back on the porch, giving Mac privacy. He wanders around the side of the house and relieves himself before he begins to amble back, indulging in the need to follow a scent by the vehicles before he heads back. He can hear Bozer and Jack talking quietly as he walks around the corner and the conversation ends abruptly with Bozer saying, “...whatever it takes, please.” It doesn’t take a genius to guess what, or who, the conversation was about.

When Mac climbs the stairs they all head back inside and Bozer announces that he’s going to head to bed early to be extra rested for the drive. Jack agrees that’s a good idea and says he’s getting a shower before calling it a night himself, heading upstairs.

Bozer says goodnight to Mac and Mac heads over to the couch in the small living room. He curls into himself, balling up for warmth, and lets himself drift with the soft creaks and whispers of activity that tell him Jack’s getting a shower upstairs. 

It’s strange, he thinks, how relaxed he is right now. Usually when circumstances have dictated him and Bozer needing to sleep somewhere other than home, he’s wide awake for hours, unable to unwind in a place he doesn’t know.  
But Mac’s nearly asleep when soft footsteps approach and he opens his eyes expecting it to be Bozer, too awake to sleep yet, but it isn’t. It’s Jack standing in the dark, holding a quilt.

“Sorry.” Jack whispers, letting the blanket unfold from his hands so that he can drape it over Mac. “Almost forgot your blanket. Sleep well.”

Mac is so filled with gratitude at the gesture, the creature comfort of warmth for sleep, he desperately wishes he had a voice to respond in kind. Jack pauses at the foot of the stairs and gives him a gentle smile that’s barely there in the darkness, whispering, “I know.”

Jack’s long ascended to his room and Mac continues to blink at the place he was for a few moments, both amused and surprised, before he settles himself back down. He’s warm and comfortable and he sleeps as soundly as he does at home.


	3. Chapter 3

One of the main benefits Jack would say that his gift provides is the immediacy in differentiating between dreams and reality. It doesn’t stop him from seeing upsetting nightmares or sad memories but it keeps him from being completely disoriented by them. Like now, for instance, he’s dreaming and he knows he is because the world is too still, the colors too brightly saturated in contrast around him. 

Knowing it’s a dreamscape doesn’t change the fact that he’s dreaming, it doesn’t give him an immediate pass to escape or move on to a new scene, no control over his actions within it. Which is fine because the scene around him is pleasant enough, he’s kneeling in a field and gathering plain looking flowers so he allows himself to relish in the normalcy of this scene.

But even as he goes to grab another flower the threatening growl of something wild echoes in his ear and when he turns, the snarling face of a shadowy wolf is less than a foot from his. He glances around the field of flowers but there’s nowhere to run or hide. He holds out his hand, both in a plea for time and a gesture of defense. The wolf licks its teeth and leaps at him, he doesn’t have time to scream.

Jack lurches into the waking world with a gasp and searches the dark of his room for a threat that isn’t there. He groans and rubs at his face, annoyed and confused by what he saw, because the problem is he doesn’t know what to make of it. 

As a drawback to his abilities, dreams come both in the form of normal dreaming or premonition dreaming but they don’t exactly come with a label for what they are after you’ve seen them. This dream could have been a warning for something to come or merely a bit of his subconscious showing off its imagination but damned if he knows what it is right now sitting in his bed at the buttcrack of dawn.

He glances at his phone on the night stand and sighs. It's a little earlier than his normal waking time but it's close enough to start the day so he does just that.

He creeps on bare feet down the staircase and past the living room before he heads straight for the coffee maker, setting it up to percolate while he slips his boots on and heads for the barn. 

Jack tends to business as usual. He turns the horses out at the back gate and sets their bins up with oats and hay. He opens up the chicken coop doors and scatters their feed. He adds fresh water to their pans and then ensures the horse’s water trough is still clear. After that it’s over to the greenhouse, where the majority of his focus will be today thanks to his chores being a tad neglected due to his unforeseen guests arrival. After the sprinklers timers are set and he takes a mental tally of how many collection jars he’s going to need, he heads back to the house just as the first signs of sunrise start coloring the sky.

He makes himself a meager ration of instant oatmeal and raisins and prepares a pan of bacon and premade biscuits to go in the oven. He’ll have to go into town to shop today, he only had enough food for himself and he doesn’t have a lot of options in the fridge. He’s just set the timer when the soft click-click of nails on wood alert him to Mac padding into the room.

“Morning.” Jack says quietly and Mac dips his muzzle in a clear greeting. It's odd knowing Mac can understand him, odder still to have a clear response even if it isn’t a verbal one, but it will hopefully make things easier for both of them in the long run. “Outside time?”

Mac walks over to the back door without a second glance, just a yawn that shows off the row of fierce teeth in his mouth. Jack smiles, Mac’s clearly not a morning person, and lets him out.

“I’ll leave it so you can push it open.” Jack says, and Mac stops mid stride down the steps to look back at him. Jack can feel the same surprised gratitude he felt last night when he brought Mac a blanket. Something about the pleasant warmth of his surprise, the clear idea that he’s not used to having someone be concerned for his particular desire to be self-sufficient, puts a soft ache in Jack’s chest. 

Mac just nods and trots off so Jack pulls the door to, but not shut completely and settles in to have a cup of coffee. Bozer’s up not long after that, probably awoken by the smell of breakfast that no doubt carried down the hall to his room, and he’s no less congenial barely awake than he was yesterday fresh off a several hour long drive.

They make small chat while they eat. Jack advises Bozer of a more straight route to take out of the mountains and Bozer compliments Jack on his hospitality and his cooking. Bozer pauses and pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slides it to Jack. Jack accepts it, unfolds briefly enough to ascertain the amount is what they discussed when Mac was out of ear shot last night, before tucking it away in his shirt pocket.

“Two hundred now and I’ll wire you more when I get back home.” Bozer promises and Jack gives him a small nod. “Like I said last night, Mr. Dalton. I will give anything to make this work. Whatever it takes.”

They had discussed Bozer paying in stages so that he didn’t have to give Jack an obscene amount of money for something that may or may not work. And while the young man had sworn he would pay any price, give up anything that was his to give, if Jack could free his brother from this curse, Jack had no intention of charging more than a hundred a month for this project, namely just enough to pay for whatever extra groceries he’d need to feed the wolf. He didn’t start this work to become rich, he just wants to help these people, he doesn’t need more than that.

“Please, Bozer, call me Jack. And there’s no rush. I’ll give you the info you need before you leave.” Jack assures, getting up to add his mug to the sink, just as the back door creaks open. Mac wanders in a moment later and heads for the table, hopping up onto the bench Jack had set out for him last night like that’s where he always belonged. “Mac, I’m afraid pickings are kinda slim around here today. Can you tough it out on two biscuits with bacon and we’ll get lunch in town?”

Mac nods and Jack doesn’t miss the tail wag that happens at the mention of bacon. He splits two biscuits into halves for more bite sized portions and doesn’t bother hiding his smile when Mac literal swallows the portions whole. 

Not long after, Bozer makes himself ready to go and Jack clears out of the house to give them time to say goodbyes in private. From what he could tell, these two haven’t been without each other for any great length of time and this was bound to be difficult for them. Bozer loads up his rental and Jack comes around to see him off with a handshake and a promise to be in touch soon.

With everything packed and ready to go, Bozer pauses on the porch and kneels down to Mac before pulling him against his chest for a tight hug. Mac whines when the young man squeezes him hard but Jack reckons that has very little to do with the pressure of the arms holding him. It takes them a moment to break apart, but eventually Bozer pulls himself back, wiping at his eyes with a sullen little laugh.

“Jeez, you’d think I was shipping you off to bootcamp or something the way I’m gettin’ all emotional. I know you’re gonna be fine here. This is gonna be great for you, like an extended vacation. You get to have lots of space to run around and explore and Jack is the best shot we have at finding answers. We are in the right place. This is gonna work. We have to believe that, right?” 

Mac huffs softly and Bozer pulls the wolf back into his arms like an oversized teddy bear, clearly not ready to let go. 

Jack doesn’t even have to touch his other senses to feel the way these boys’ hearts are aching. The brotherhood between them is as deep and well rooted as an ancient tree and they’re both hurting over the uncertainty of being away from each other. But it’s a necessary hurt, under it is fiery determination and the tiniest inkling of hope.

He can feel them struggling to keep themselves relaxed, the turmoil bubbling underneath facades of calm and Jack decides to take mercy on them. 

Clearing his throat quietly, he steps closer and says gently, “it’ll be alright, Bozer. He’s safe here.” He puts a hand on Bozer’s shoulder, focusing on sending out a wave of peace through himself into the younger man, puts purpose and detail into the very memory of ease. It’s not enough to overtake him completely, just a whisper of comfort to strengthen his resolve, and the effect is almost instant.

Bozer pulls back again and stands but the smile he flashes is much more real this time, neither forced nor sad. “I’ll call when I get back home, okay?”

Mac nods and stays seated on the porch but Jack can see the way his legs twitch and shift with the urge to follow. Bozer climbs into the driver's seat with an awkward half wave before starting the car and heading back out the long driveway. They watch the suburban disappear down the winding gravel road and when they can no longer hear the rumble of tires on rock Jack turns to Mac.

“You okay, buddy?”

Mac sighs a little and sinks to lay down on the porch steps, his head pillowed on his fore paws and his eyes scanning the empty distance. The anxiety of uncertainty floats over him like winter fog.

Jack pats his broad furred shoulders before he paces away a couple steps, “I know. It’ll be all right, though. I’m gonna get started in the garden, in case you need to know where to find me.”

Mac flicks his ears, a clear affirmative, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the horizon. Jack leaves him to his silent vigil and turns his mind to the list of chores that sorely need his attention, and promises himself to check in on his new house guest in an hour or two.

—

There’s a lot of work to cover and Jack doesn’t waste time. 

He starts gathering up everything he needs for the collection of the plants he’s working with today. While he heads out to the garden, he grabs his phone and sends off a few texts to various other folks in his line of work.

The first one to answer him is his former classmate of herbology and ex, Sarah. She responds to his request for extra research material with a question mark and a promise to call in the evening. He takes numerous phone calls throughout the morning. A few calls are to set up appointments, some are to place orders for more of his supplies. Some of the calls are to book boarding arrangements for horses over the winter while people travel for the holidays. When the phone calls slow down, he’s elbows deep into the garden and he stays that way for awhile.

That’s the trick about being a one man operation, he has to multitask. There’s always multiple things and plans to manage at a time, which he’s good at, but the downside to that is that time gets away from him. So that’s how he finds himself blinking in surprise at his phone when he goes to check a text and realizes it’s nearly three o’clock.

With a curse under his breath, he hurries out of the greenhouse to look for Mac, apologies on his lips for forgetting to check in on him. Poor kid must be starving.

Jack checks the porch and of course Mac isn’t there, that was hours ago after all, and a quick look around the stable area. He looks in the house, just to be sure Mac didn’t somehow develop thumbs and get inside, and when he finds no sign of him, he has to pause to think. 

Mac probably went to have a look around when Jack up and forgot about him earlier, so he just needs to try to get his attention. He’s thought that, decided to whistle, and just barely catches himself as he’s drawn in the air to let the sound fly. Mac has had to live the last nine years of his life under the guise of being a therapy animal for his safety, and it was clearly a demeaning situation for him. Being whistled for like a pet isn’t going to help that and hollering at the top of his lungs is liable to scare the hell out of him for no damn reason. He debates for a moment and thinks to himself, when in Rome...

Jack cups his hands over his mouth, takes a deep breath and lets off a long steady howl. He waits for only a heartbeat when a distinctly real howl cuts through the air, about two hundred yards to his left, just beyond the gate to the pasture.

It only takes about two minutes for Mac to appear, running from the brush in a straight path to Jack where he stands on the porch. When he skids to a stop in the dirt, Jack almost laughs at the sight of him, his coat bedraggled by twigs and leaves and dust.

Jack stoops down and dusts him off a bit. “Quite a playground out there, eh?”

Mac shakes his whole body to help dislodge the rest of the debris as Jack stands again as amused exhilaration radiates from him like sunlight in early spring. He seems to be enjoying the room to run, if nothing else.

“I imagine you’re about ready to eat a horse by now?” Jack teases and Mac’s tail wags a bit, licking his muzzle in an exaggerated show of teeth. “Well let’s get going then, yeah? There’s a great burger place in town, if that sounds good.”

Mac bounce-trots as he makes a beeline for the truck so Jack figures that’s an agreement. They load up in Jack’s old Chevy, Mac clambering up onto the bench seat like an overeager puppy and they head for town, radio on and windows down.

—

The lunch stop goes well even if they make quite a stir in the tiny mountain town’s only drive-through burger joint. Half the kitchen comes to gawk through the drive through window to get a peek at the large canine shaped companion Jack has riding shotgun.

Jack doesn’t pay them any mind while he orders four burgers, two without veggies for Mac and they stop to eat in the parking lot. He tears Mac’s two into halves then quarters and Mac makes his two disappear pretty quickly. Jack hasn’t yet finished his sandwich when Mac starts licking at the wrapper his burger came in, thoroughly seeking any forgotten morsel that might have been stuck to the paper. Poor kid really was hungry. 

Jack fetches out the other burger that was meant for him, picks off the veggies and sets it down in front of Mac, torn into four pieces like the first two were. The way Mac’s guilty and surprised eyes flash to him as he drops his ears with apology is enough to make Jack laugh for real.

“Don’t feel bad dude. I’m the one who forgot about lunchtime, which I’m sorry about, by the way. Go ahead and eat. Their fries are the best part anyway.” He promises as he grabs the carton of semi warm fries out of the bag, which isn’t a lie at all, they’re pretty tasty even cold. Mac only stares at him for a moment more, his contentment and gratitude obvious without words, before he leans down and starts on the third burger.

Jack drives them over to the market and laughs when he parks out front and the market manager, a lady about Jack’s age named Ida, does a double take at him and his additional passenger. Curiosity and questions are hanging above her head like a comic strip thought bubble.

“You good to hang out here for about twenty minutes if I leave the windows down?” Jack asks and Mac twitches his ears forward as an affirmative. “Alright, I won’t be long. You have my full permission to bite anyone stupid enough to reach their arm in the truck.”

Mac’s ears twitch again, another small confirmation, and Jack slides out of the truck, prepared to be interrogated by the town gossip.

Ida is at least kind about being nosy. “Hiya Jack.”

“Ida, how are you?” Jack ask, grabs a basket by the front door and she blocks his path, subtly.

“Not bad. Busy as always. And it looks like y’been even busier. You gonna introduce me to your new friend there?” Right to the point, as always. Mac is watching from the window and Jack hopes he doesn’t mind playing along too much.

“How about after I’m done with my shopping? Mac there is a therapy animal I’m watching after for a buddy of mine. I’ve just given him orders to wait and I can’t be breaking his focus so quickly.” Jack says and hopes his little lie will encourage people, for Mac’s sake, to give him some space and not ask too many questions when he leaves after Jack has him sorted out. 

Ida squints at him but nods and Jack takes his opening to do a speedrun through the store to gather up everything he’ll need for a week or two, to feed two bellies. It’s a very small market, so there isn’t a lot of variety for the items that he picks out and he’s back at the front to pay for everything in almost exactly twenty minutes.

When he walks out, Ida is waiting for him almost exactly where he left her and the expectant look she gives him reminds him a lot of his mother’s ‘you’re in for it now’ glare.

Jack takes everything over to the passenger side and sets it on the floorboard before he turns back to her with his best country boy smile.

“How’s Tammy?” He asks and Ida dips her head in a gentle nod.

“She’s fine. Her and the family’ll be up to visit next weekend.”

“That’s great. Give her my love. You gonna go to stay with ‘em for Thanksgiving?”

“No, Tammy has to work, but they’re planning on staying for Christmas.”

“Good, good. Well, I’ll have your order ready by next Friday. I don’t suppose I could convince you to trade me one of your delectable pecan pies as payment this time around?” Jack requests and she rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms.

“I’m sure I can manage that. But-“

“Well I won’t keep you, know you’re a hard workin’ lady and all that…” Jack says as he tries to slip around to the driver side and he hears her sharply clear her throat behind him. 

“Jack Dalton, you don’t really expect a bit flattery and small chat is enough to get around me, do you? You drive up to my store with a goddamn wolf in your front seat and you expect me to not ask any questions?”

Jack offers her his own wolfish smile. “Hoping you won’t and expecting you not to are very different things, ma’am.”

She barks a laugh that turns into a coughing spell and Jack is quick to hurry over to her. She waves his worry away quickly though.

“Don’t be a worrywart, Jack, it’s just a cough. Now introduce me to your friend, won’t you?”

Jack obediently brings her around the side of the truck to where Mac is waiting. Ida offers her knuckles for Mac to sniff and breaks into a beaming smile when Mac sniffs it then wags his tail and noses it with encouragement to pet him. Whatever Jack was expecting to happen, it wasn’t that. 

Jack stares at Mac in wordless fascination while the older woman scratches Mac behind his ears then runs her fingers through the dense fur at his cheeks. The low rumbling groans coming from Mac’s throat are all pleasure.

“He certainly is a handsome creature.” She croons and Mac wags his tail a bit faster, turning his head this way and that to request more petting. “You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you? Are you a good boy?”

Mac’s tongue lolls out the side of his muzzle in a very goofy puppyish display and it would be hilarious how good he is at playing the roll of ‘normal dog’ if it weren’t also bizarre in comparison to the almost natural way they’ve been ‘speaking’ to each other over the last twenty four hours.

“What'd you say his name was again?” Ida wants to know and Jack is so busy watching the flawless act that he nearly forgets for a moment.

“His name’s Mac.” 

“Well, he certainly is something special isn’t he?” She says as she scratches at both ears and Jack would swear to anything holy that Mac winks at him just then. Now he’s just showing off.

“Absolutely.” He agrees.

Ida smiles and gives Mac’s face a playful rub one last time before she steps back. “You’re a good boy, Mac, and you’re welcome anytime to visit. Keep an eye on this troublemaker for me, okay boy?”

Mac makes a high pitched yip at her, wagging tail and excited-dog-butt-wiggle fully engaged, and it makes Ida giggle with delight. Jack helps Ida back up the stairs to the store before he heads back to the truck. He waves at her as they go to pull away and when he turns his eyes back to Mac, the wolf looks stoic and completely exhausted as they hit the highway back to home. 

——

When they get back to the ranch, after the groceries are put up, Jack turns the TV on for Mac then goes to tend to his nightly chores. It gets dark very early this time of the year and puts a time limit on how many things he can get accomplished in a day.

Jack has to get the horses back to their stalls, the chickens penned up, and he takes the wheelbarrow full of plants he harvested down to the cellar till he can tend to them tomorrow. He’s bone tired by the time he’s done but it feels like he didn’t get much finished. Dreaming of a long hot shower and wondering where the hell the time went today, he starts to head to the house and his phone rings.

When he answers, he almost drops the phone as Sarah’s voice comes on the line. He forgot she was going to call.

“Howdy cowboy.” She says and she must be able to hear his surprise because her smile is audible over the speaker. “Forget about me?”

Jack can’t help but scoff as he throws himself down to sit on the stairs of the porch, glancing up at the crystal clear newly settled night sky. “Guess I did. Sorry about that. Thanks for calling, I appreciate it.”

“Sure, sure, but I can’t stay on long. So what’s this about you needing curse breaking texts? What did you get in to now that you need that kind of info?”

Jack sighs. “It’s for a client. I’ve run into something… rare. And very old, I think.”

Sarah is quiet only for a moment. “Okay, tell me what you know.”

“Well that’s the tricky part, darlin’, we don’t really know much. It’s definitely a curse but aside from knowing how it affects him, we don’t know any details about where it comes from or why. All we know is this kid, when he turned fifteen he turned into a wolf. And an actual real wolf by the way, not an illusion or a dog or a wolf-man, he’s flesh and blood real. According to his friend who’s been taking care of him since this all happened, he only transforms during the night of the full moon, only between sunset and sunrise.”

Jack pauses for a moment and he can feel Sarah mulling it over so he continues. “And the other problem is that there are no living family members to ask regarding the issue.”

“Yikes.” Sarah says under her breath and Jack nods, even though she can’t see him.

“My thoughts exactly. This has all the makings of a standard curse and when I originally assessed him, the magic is very present, just deeply embedded. I didn’t do a deep search to find out exactly how deeply yet-“

“But magic strong enough to bind someone in their own skin, in a completely different form no less, for a whole month at a time for- how many years?”

“Nine.”

“Damn.” She sighs and there's shuffling on the other end of the phone, Jack doesn’t bother to interrupt, wants to give her a moment to think.  
“And there is absolutely no one in his family to ask?”

“As far as this kid knows, all his family is dead, except for his dad who took off and never came back the day he turned. Apparently he didn’t take it well when his near grown child turned into a hundred something pound predator in front of his eyes. So he’s obviously-”

“A useless prick.” Sarah hisses and Jack smiles.

“Aw, you always know just what I’m gonna say.”

Her tinkling laughter echoes in his ear and when she calms, there’s more shuffling on her end before she says, “I’ll send you what I have but you know that’s not really my specialty. I’ll reach out to some of our friends across the world, maybe they’ll have something that can actually be helpful. But you know…” the way her tone drops to that reproachful sad note has Jack bristling immediately.

“Don’t start, Sarah.” He commands defensively. “I’m not gonna just turn this kid away because the odds are against us.”

There’s a longer suffering sigh from the other end and Jack recognizes it to belong to The Sad smile she always wore when they were about to fight when they were still together. It’s the same sigh he heard in her voice when she had told him she was leaving for New York and a new start. 

“You’re such a bleeding heart.” It’s not an accusation in her voice, just a sad truth and Jack decides instantly he can’t bear to hear it.

“Sarah…” he pleads and there’s a huff on her end.

“It’s your heart, Jack. You can break it how you want, I just wish you wouldn’t.”

Jack doesn’t have a response to that so he waits for her to end the conversation for them. The frustration and resignation in her voice when she speaks is an ice pick in his lungs.

“I’ll send you everything I got and I’ll reach out to the others. I’ll be in touch. Be careful, Jack.”

“Thank you.” He says and there’s no reply to that before the line disconnects.

When he manages to find the energy to stand and head inside he finds Mac already asleep on the couch. He walks over and drapes the blanket on the floor over him and almost laughs when Mac sighs in his sleep, a sound of deep relief. He hopes it’s not the only relief he can give him.

Jack climbs the stairs to his bathroom and showers under scalding hot water, tries to convince the heat to burn away the tiredness clinging to his joints. Once he’s done he heads into his study and starts picking out a few books that might be able to help him find what he needs to start working Mac’s case. He doesn’t have a lot about this particular subject on hand, just two small pamphlet books really, too modern to be much help in this scenario, but he figures it might help him find a starting point. He picks the one that focuses on identification and lays down with it, hopes to read till sleep claims him.

Trouble is, there’s a tingling dread creeping up the back of his neck and it makes focusing on the words or the idea of sleep impossible. He tries to ignore it, even sets his book aside to focus on centering his aura in calm stillness, but the dread crawls over him like centipede legs and he throws himself out of bed with a disgusted swear. 

This ominous sensation feels distant, but like it’s growing in size, coming ever nearer. Not a looming violent dread, like the one he always felt before battle in his Army days, but still very present and fiercely insistent. A warning.

He stomps into his study out of frustration and pulls out a personal deck of cards, a personalized gift from Sarah of the Major Arcana. Focusing on his own heartbeat and closing his eyes, he shuffles, deals by muscle memory and draws. When he flips the cards over for himself he stares at them, annoyed.

The Moon card, the Judgement card and the Hanged Man are all upright and facing him with expectant neutrality.

Trust your intuition. Absolution is coming. Surrender to it.

He stuffs the cards back into the deck and sets them aside carefully, staring into the dark. When he finally goes back to bed, he doesn’t sleep well. 

Surrender to your fate the last card had said. Jack’s never been one to surrender.


	4. Chapter 4

Mac stopped believing in miracles and happy endings a long time ago. Back when his mother had died when he was so little and then his first transformation nearly a decade later... he got the rough idea that happiness wasn’t a path for his life. 

Not to say that he doesn’t have happiness in his life. He got insanely lucky with Bozer being the kind of guy who treats friendship like it’s the Marines, no man left behind. And he’s been fortunate that they’ve kept his secret under wraps, that he’s been able to safely hide in plain sight.

But safe doesn’t equal happy. 

And yeah, he could probably live with Bozer forever, although he can’t imagine having to live with the guilt of knowing that Bozer doesn’t have a choice in the matter, other than what his loyalty says is right. It’s just... it doesn’t feel right. 

Maybe it’s selfish, but he wanted to lead his own life, do his own things, and the longer that time goes on, it’s become clear to Mac that having that sort of freedom just isn’t in the cards for him. He’s learned to deal with it for the most part, just accepted that this is how it is, and to enjoy the little things he can, but it’s kind of depressing some days.

Which is perhaps why his reaction to Bozer bringing him the idea of going to Texas to meet a man people called ‘Miracle Jack’ had been an eye-roll and sigh. But Bozer is nothing if not determined, and after some convincing and coaxing, Mac agreed to go, even if he was pretty certain he was just placating his friend.

Imagine his surprise to find out everything Bozer had heard about this man was true and then some. 

Jack was indeed full of miracles, even if they weren’t as sensational as they had been made to sound. He was not a flashy revivalist healer as some of the stories had suggested, it was more a practical down-home kind of magic. The kind of magic made by careful hands and a kind heart, miraculous in the sense that it was used for people who were out of options and out of hope. 

Mac doesn’t watch him work directly at first, opts to give the man privacy to do his work without a set of prying eyes on him or his clients. The first week, Mac spends time wandering the grounds and then venturing into the nearby pastures that outline the fenced part of the house and stable. He gets himself familiar with the paths close to the house, he wanders a little farther, and farther still, until he can stand on the highest ridge overlooking the east side of Jack’s house. It’s a refreshing experience, to say the least, to be able to wander without restraint or concern for who might be looking at him for sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s just so open here and it feels like a breath of fresh air for his soul.

At the second week mark, almost exactly, the weather changes to be rainy, windy and cold and wandering doesn’t have all the appeal it had before when the muddy clay-sand sticks between his toes or the cold stings his ears. He ends up staying in the house more often than not during the worst of the weather and curiosity gets the better of him, so he does listen in when he can to some of Jack’s appointments. It is a fascinating process to see up close after all, and it’s a humbling thing to watch someone so altruistically devoted to the care of others.

Jack catches him at it pretty quick, which is no surprise really when he thinks back on it later. After all, how do you sneak up on someone who can sense your presence just by your emotional intentions. 

Mac’s more than a little embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping but Jack seems to understand his curiosity though, and when they’re alone, he fills Mac in on the broad details of some of his cases. He’s particularly careful to not give away private information however, only offers a basic descriptive knowledge of his process. A psychic reading here, a meditative trance there, a cup of chamomile tea for a cold or a jar of wound salve when needed. He gets the impression that Jack’s clients are an extended part of his family and he respects them as well as protects them. 

And it’s not only clients for healing services, Mac finds out. Jack also boards horses for people and this is apparently the busy season. They go from two horses to fifteen in two days and Jack teases Mac that he’ll have to learn how to muck out stalls to earn his keep.

When Jack’s not working with people, he’s working everywhere else, whether that’s in the garden, the stable or the house. Two weeks pass in a blur, but he’s not surprised given how busy it stays on the little ranch. From dawn to dark, there is always something happening somewhere on the property and at the epicenter of its activity is Jack, constantly in motion. The man is very busy, so Mac does his best to give him room and not get under his feet if he can help it.

It’s a lot of work for one person, everything Jack does. The upkeep of the horses and barn alone is time consuming, but add the gardening, then the other clients to it… and now, since the fourth day when a huge box had been delivered, at least a two hour session every evening is spent pouring over ancient encyclopedia-like tomes of information for Mac’s curse. Mac doesn’t know how he keeps up with it all, other than he suspects Jack must be a master of time as well as a witch doctor.

As a whole, they don’t spend a lot of time together, just moments here and there between breakfast and dinner. He takes to following Jack to the barn in the mornings, a silent shadow on Jack’s heels, partly for his own curiosity and partly because Jack is an intriguingly soothing person to be around. Jack doesn’t appear to mind the company, sometimes just talking to Mac, filling the silence. But to his credit, Jack does make an effort to have conversation with Mac, offers him questions he can respond to. And while it’s nice to be included, it still feels odd to be ‘conversing’ again.

Which is perhaps why he’s again surprised when Jack waves him over while he’s cleaning out a water trough.

“I’m sure you know this better than me… but the full moon is due in a couple days.”

Mac nods as he sits beside Jack. He does know. The days leading up to it makes his skin crawl and itch with energy. He doesn’t know why exactly, only that it drives him near mad with the urge to move, like he can feel a ticking clock hovering in his chest driving him forward.

Jack grins, working his arm down into the water trough to scrub at a certain spot. “I was thinking you might like to pick out a particular type of dinner, something you can enjoy with your hands instead of your face. How’s that sound?”

Mac nods again and licks his muzzle, his tail traitorously giving away his excitement at the prospect as it swings vigorously in the dirt behind him. Jack chuckles. “Great. I’ve got some places in mind, we can talk about it at dinner tonight. But that’s back burner stuff. I wanted to tell you I've got a lead to start on your curse. But I need your help-, Hey wait calm down now, don’t get ahead of yourself…” 

Mac didn’t even realize he had stood, his feet shifting quickly below him, when Jack mentioned having a lead but he can’t help being eager to know more. He forces himself to sit and pay attention to what Jack’s telling him.

“I have a way to examine the curse up close. Put it under a magical microscope, for a lack of better words. It should help us find the reason it exists, how it’s bound to you, which will tell us how to find the steps to break it. It's gonna be a little weird though. And we need to start right at sundown, alright? So don’t be late.”

Mac springs to his feet and spins once, the joy of finally having a starting point is beyond anything he’s felt yet. Jack chuckles at his antics and offers his palm outstretched and asks, “high five?” 

Mac raises his paw and swats at Jack’s hand with a little too much force but it connects and it feels so good. For the first time in a long while, he allows the tiny spark of hope to live.

-

Part of him is so excited and ready for whatever it is Jack wants to try, he’s tempted to just stay in the house and wait for sundown. Mac also knows his excitement is too damn high to be contained just watching TV passing the time, so he decides on going for a run instead. He lets himself get lost in the steady pattern of stride for stride, each lungful of winter damp earth around him grounding his over-stimulated mind. He keeps a vague idea of the sun’s passing and just moves, making wide random interlocked circles across the pastures, following his feet, his nose and instinct. 

When it’s close enough, when he can no longer stand the wait, Mac heads back, his shadow made long by the dipping sun as he tracks his way back through the underbrush. He’s almost to the main fence when a long very human howl breaks the air and if he could laugh, he would. Jack must be just as eager to do this as he is, although it is probably more because he wants his house to himself again.

He doesn’t answer the call, decides on a moment of impulsive playfulness, he wants to see if he can sneak up on Jack. He goes the long way around the porch and focuses everything into putting one quiet foot in front of the other. He stalks up slowly, keeps his head down, a little closer… and a little closer…

“Very funny wise guy.” Jack says as he turns around to meet him. Not a success this time, but he intends to surprise Jack someday, just to prove he can. Mac sinks to fully laying down, head on his front feet, tail wagging quickly behind him. “Picture of innocence, huh? You ain’t foolin’ me, buddy. You’ll have to do better than that to get the drop on me.”

Mac springs up and launches at Jack, hitting him square in the chest with his front feet before he springs away again, bouncing in place. 

Jack just laughs, “Alright mighty hunter, you ready to get this show on the road?”

Mac is more than ready.

When they step through the front door, it’s like they’ve stepped into another house altogether. Yes the layout is the same but it’s different because of the prep Jack has done while Mac was out.

In the healing room the carpet has been pulled out from the sitting table to reveal a huge white chalk outline of an emblem Mac’s not familiar with, something vaguely religious if he’s remembering his history channel binges correctly. The table is off in the corner now acting like a makeshift alter, displaying multiple candles and a tray of soft scented incense that smells vaguely of vanilla. There are candles all around the room and they’re needed, because the blinds and curtains have all been drawn, the room plunged into almost total darkness. There’s a faint scent of something spicy in the air, but it’s pleasant all the same. The final thing Mac sees is a marble bowl on the floor in the center of the emblem, a dark gray hue that shimmers in the candlelight glow.

“Alright, it’s almost time.” Jack tells him and Mac doesn’t know why, but those words send a thrilling shiver down his spine. “I’m gonna give you a run down of what should happen. It is absolutely important that you do as I say, alright?”

Mac nods, curiosity burning, and Jack waves him over to the marble bowl in the room.

“This is a scrying bowl. It acts as a portal into other worlds. I’m going to look into it so that I can see your aura, as it exists in the magical plane, and it should allow me to examine the foundations of the curse. I will need one drop of your blood to do this and I need you to focus on thinking about granting me permission to do this, otherwise it’s not going to work. Got it?”

Mac stares down into the water of the bowl and looks back to Jack with a nod.

“Very good. Now listen, this in theory could take only a few minutes or it might be an hour. When we look into the water together, you and I both will mentally step into the next plane. This is critically important. Do not leave the ring of our candles. Whatever you see, whatever you hear around us can not hurt you. The magical plane is full of spirits and shifting energies and they are notoriously good at tricking the mind into following them away from your light source. No matter what you see, don’t run. Do you understand?”

Mac feels nervousness curl up hot in his chest but he trusts Jack to know what he’s talking about here and he nods, glancing at the bowl cautiously. Jack pats his shoulder and reaches up to unclip a necklace Mac’s never noticed him wearing before, previously hidden under his shirt. When he pulls it out he shows it to Mac, the metal charm hanging from the thin chain is the same as the emblem chalked into the floor, a four point cross made by interlocking loops.

“This is a mark of my craft, the celtic knot, and it works as a charm against trickery. If you feel like running I want you to focus on the weight of this and remember what I told you.” Jack says quietly as he clips the necklace back together around Mac’s neck. It rests against the fur of his throat and it’s metal feels soothingly weighted on him. It’s not heavy but it reminds him of having a gentle hug around his shoulders for some reason. 

Jack gestures for him to sit across from him on the floor and he produces a small pocket knife. Mac ears drop at the sight of it and Jack smiles, sympathetic.

“I know. Just one drop, though. An ear will be the easiest, is that okay?”

Mac huffs a sigh but he doesn’t pull back when Jack gently takes his left ear in hand. The sting of the blade taps the end of his ear just once while Jack firmly presses his fingers around the sting and almost immediately the sharpness of it is gone.

Jack leans down and flicks his knife against the side of the bowl, sending a tiny crimson drop to dissolve into the water. He then grabs a vial from his pocket and taps a single drop of oil into the bowl while he brings a long tall candle to rest beside them. 

“We’re about to begin. Remember, don’t run.” Jack whispers, his face calm but serious.

Mac nods as Jack sits himself crossed leg across from him. Jack uses his knife again, this time on his own finger, holding the blood coated blade tip over the fire. The smell of copper burning is unpleasant and something about it makes Mac’s stomach churn with trepidation.

Jack takes in a slow breath and begins to speak.

“My blood feeds the fire, a gift on your pyre. In my cup an offering for thee so I might look and see. I seek not to take, only to know. With your sight, through me let it flow. Let us pass and walk free, by your will, blessed be.”

Mac is so entranced by the rhythmic way of his speech, he’s almost startled when Jack’s eyes, nearly black in the darkness of the room, meet his and he gestures silently for them to look into the bowl.

At first he sees nothing, just the stillness of the water in the bowl and the orange flickering of candles around them. He’s tempted to look away, wonders if perhaps something is wrong, but suddenly he sees a ripple across the water’s surface. It begins from the farthest edges of the bowl and goes in, one large ring fading to the center, one at a time. It looks unnatural, like an image played in reverse, and he has the urge to shake himself to clear his sight but he forces himself to be still. Then, almost imperceptibly, a feeling of pressure builds in his ears and he has the strangest sense of rising in his head, like the rush of standing in a fast moving elevator. Between one blink and the next, they’re not in the front parlor of Jack’s house but in a different place entirely, only the candles and the bowl are with them. 

It’s… well it’s like nothing Mac’s ever seen before. A quick glance around and all he can see is what looks like a sheet of mirror glass under them and stretching far beyond sight all around them, that doesn’t reflect them, it only reflects a cloudless blue sky above them that  
looks close enough to touch. It’s ice cold too and when he glances at Jack he sees the man breathe out a puff of warm air.

Jack rubs his hands together and stands.

“Alright, let’s do this quick. C’mere hoss, I need you to stand right here.” Jack requests and Mac comes around to stand in front of him. “This will take just a minute, be still please.” 

When Mac does, Jack produces a small leather bag from his pocket before he throws a handful of dust over Mac who can’t help but sneeze. When he does though, he looks down and sees as the dust settles, neon-esque color shimmering in the air around him in the reflection below him. It reminds him of traffic lights on a freshly rained on road. 

Jack kneels down, waving his hands over Mac’s body, not touching, but studying something Mac can’t quite focus his eyes on. Whatever it is, it stays frustratingly in his peripheral vision and he gives up trying to watch what Jack’s doing, instead letting his eyes wander, fascinated by the endlessness of this alien world around them.

At first there isn’t really anything to look at, but he does watch the faint line of the horizon. It isn’t that interesting a place, given that there’s nothing here but them, but the longer he observes, the more he realizes he can hear something other than his and Jack’s breathing. It sounds like rushing water, a far away white noise, but it’s growing in volume. He listens, trying to make sense of the sound with no visible source but the longer he focuses on it, the more he realizes that he sees something too. A shape in front of them outlined by the horizon.

A fast moving something.

Something big and getting bigger as it grows closer. 

The white noise sound increases, getting deeper and more cacophonous. He glances at Jack but Jack isn’t paying any attention, mumbling to himself almost trance-like as he looks unfocused through Mac.

Mac turns back and the thing, a massive shadowy tsunami his brain names it even if it’s not quite right, is now barreling toward them. The rushing water roar in his ears is almost painful and it fills his head with panic. His feet itch to run, but Jack told him to stay here, to stay still. He growls, hopes the sound is enough to warn Jack, to get his attention. It doesn’t. 

The dark tsunami wall, several stories high, is nearly on them. Mac feels like he’s watching a building about to crash down on top of him and he closes his eyes when it looks like it’s about to hit the candles in front of them, he doesn’t want to see the hit. The roar is thunderingly in his ears until it suddenly isn’t.

Cautiously, he cracks one eye open and sees that the dark tsunami is gone and so is the roaring water noise. It’s quiet again. He looks around them and there is nothing there but his lungs still heave from the fright of what feels like imminent danger. He turns to look at Jack and he yelps in terror, startling back a few steps.

Jack is still in his trance, mumbling softly to himself and his eyes are almost glazed as they stare into the middle distance, but it’s not Jack that’s the problem. It’s what’s behind him.

Just outside the ring of light, there’s an animal that is so clearly not from the natural world, it makes his hackles rise as the instinct for looming dread creeps down his spine. It’s form is wetly-viscous like crude oil, both lupine and feline shaped at the same time. The sharp clawed paws scrabble at the candles, trying to break through the safety of the barrier and it’s making progress all too quickly.

Mac jumps to stand between it and Jack, barking and baring his teeth at the thing, whatever it is, but it pays him no mind. It’s terrifying how close it’s getting to breaking through, the candles rocking wildly with each paw swipe, and Mac doesn’t know what it’ll do if it gets in here, but his gut says he won’t live to worry about it if it does. He presses himself against Jack’s back, hoping it will startle Jack to be aware of what’s happening but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Time’s almost up, the barrier is almost broken, and all that stands between Jack and this creature is Mac. He’ll do his best to keep the man safe, he hopes it’ll be enough.

Mac steps forward so that he’s inches away from where the candles are being pawed at and at last the creature notices him, raising it’s head to stare with black-void filled eyes. Lowering himself so that he’s ready to lunge, the oil-creature opens its jaw impossibly wide, like a snake unhinging its jaw to show a terrifying display of needle sharp teeth, and shrieks a furious challenge that pierces his ears like a train whistle before it returns to its task of breaking in. 

This is it. Mac reaches down deep for all his strength and turns his mind over to the animal half of him, focusing in on the wolf’s natural born instinct to defend and to survive.

Protect, his wolf-mind growls. Protect or die. He licks his teeth and the snarl that bursts from his chest sounds like a roll of thunder.

The candle falls.

The shadow animal is on him immediately, and they meet each other with a clash of fang and fury. Mac screams for the pain but the wolf pays it less mind, focusing on its foe in a desperate bid to win. Teeth and claw find a grip in the oil-creature and it screeches to be challenged so.  
But the pain is in him and all around him, everywhere. It feels like ice being rammed into his chest and knives sawing through his bones. He wants to flee from this thing’s bite and vicious attack, instinct tells him he needs to escape if he wants to live. 

But he knows he can’t give up.

If he gives up, Jack will be this thing’s next victim and that can’t happen. Jack is needed in this world, he doesn’t deserve to die because Mac came to him for help. 

So Mac doubles down on his resolve. His fangs find purchase in novacaine-flavored hide and he doesn’t let go. He digs in with his feet and kicks, hopes to score this thing with as many tears as he can. He whips his head back and forth, aiming to tear as many chunks out as possible. He doesn’t know if this creature can die but it seems to be hurting if it’s enraged shrieking is any clue, so Mac holds fast. 

The mad scramble of the fight is all there is for a long time. It could be a moment or year, Mac can’t tell. In his head, it’s all rage and pain. The wolf takes over and Mac falls into a dazed passive distance, unable to handle the strain of it all. 

He doesn’t know how but suddenly the bite of oil fangs disappear and the wolf fades back, a sense of triumph mixed with overwhelming exhaustion filling up his head. But the pain is still in him, on him, chewing him up all over. He thinks he might hear Jack calling for him, but it’s far away.

It feels like darkness is closing in over him, and the cold in his chest is making him so tired. He has to let go for a while, needs to close his eyes and leave the pain outside.

He wonders if this is what death feels like. If it is, he’s okay with this.

Mac just wishes he could have protected Jack better. He hopes he’s okay. He just wanted to keep him safe. He did his best.

His last thought before the dark drags him under is he hopes Jack got away.


	5. Chapter 5

The fae world is dangerous, Jack knew they were taking a risk stepping onto the plane, but his best chance to find answers was seeking them at the source of magic’s home.

It’s why he had been extra thorough when he’d set up the scrying ritual. He had ensured that the candles were perfectly placed, that the salt-chalk barrier was thick, and he’d double-checked that Mac understood that they were safe so long as they didn’t leave the protection of the circle. He’d even given him his protection charm, hoping it would give him strength to keep his wits.

Despite his planning and caution, Jack couldn't have predicted that it would go so wrong. 

He hadn’t expected that they’d be hunted so quickly.

When he’d given into looking at Mac’s aural foundation, it had been quiet around them. Then he was drawn back from the depth of the vision, and it was to the screams of agony and the smell of blood.

Something had found them and broke through the barrier, savagely mauling Mac. It was attempting to get nearer to Jack but Mac was muzzle deep on its throat, trying to hold it back.

Jack hesitates only a moment, the shock of something so wrong catching him off guard, before he tumps the water over. As soon as the water touches the fae creature, the oil-being drops Mac from its clutches, writhing and hissing, before it retreats beyond the remaining candles with an enraged howl. Without a second to lose, Jack lunges forward and grabs Mac by the bloodied scruff of his neck and steps into the water, falling through the portal back to his healing room floor.

Jack shakes himself to clear his disorientation for a moment and then looks to Mac who is collapsed on the floor beside the now empty bowl, whimpering quietly.

“Mac!” Jack shouts, scrambling over to him. Mac whines a low sound in his throat just as Jack manages to put a hand on him. The whisper soft feeling of an apology reaches out to touch Jack just before blinding pain assaults him.

There is hurt everywhere on Mac, cuts and bites that carried over from the other world, but that’s not the worst of it. The worst damage is internal, dark black energy binding itself to Mac’s very skeleton, trying to suck the life out of him. Jack’s mind rears back from the pain, it’s like touching a hot stove with one hand and having the other encased in dry ice. It takes some effort but he forces his self preservation down and focuses on the black energy, the open wounds and starts about setting it to rights.

It takes intense focus to heal but Jack has had lots of practice and he’s confident in what he needs to do. He starts at the top and works his way down, pouring his own life-energy into Mac’s, weaving their energies together to close wounds, to steady his heartbeat, to dive deeper. The deeper he goes, the more intense the burn of the pain but the work must be done or Mac’s life will be consumed by the darker energy. Jack finds the snaking threads of black energy already burrowing into Mac’s bones and he peels them off in strips like a rotten onion, burning them away with his own energy, driving it out till there’s nothing left. 

It takes precious time and power but at last it’s done. Jack checks him over once more, one hand on Mac’s head and one over his heart, and when all he can feel is the blankness of deep sleep, he’s satisfied. 

Jack groans when he sits back, his whole body cold and sore from the energy it’s expended with no rest. He watches Mac breathe deeply in front of him, at ease but exhausted, and he’s grateful they made it back in time.

With great effort, he manages to make himself stand and as soon as he does he wavers for a moment as the room spins around him. When it passes enough to leave him only mildly winded, he heads for the kitchen with slow staggered steps and sets a kettle to boil before he resumes gathering things to look after Mac.

It takes him a while but he eventually gets Mac to the guest bedroom, and using almost all his remaining strength, heaves him up onto the bed. Mac doesn’t stir but he didn’t expect him to either. He tucks the heavy bed comforter around him and after that, Jack goes back to the kitchen to retrieve his hot water. He brews one of his special teas, made of things to keep him awake and focused for hours, and no doubt he needs it. 

Mac may be healed but he’s likely not out of the woods yet and Jack will need to watch him for hours to be certain he’s safe. 

He drinks the tea quickly, warmer and more awake within a few moments. The fog of exhaustion has been temporarily washed from his brain, and he sighs in relief. It won’t last but it’ll buy him a few hours to ensure Mac’s truly recovered.

Jack returns to Mac’s bedside and he settles a hand on the wolf’s head, sending out the tiniest connective tendril of energy to observe him on a deeper level. The hours and the night pass around them but he doesn’t bother to watch the clock, his attention is solely for Mac.

He doesn’t need to do much fortunately, it appears he was able to dig out all the darkness before it got in too deep to Mac’s body. At most, Mac becomes restless once or twice and Jack needs to only think of the word relax and the wolf resettles into his sleep.

Jack knows he’ll have to give into sleep himself, very soon. He can feel it dragging at his mind now, making his bones heavy and his skin chilled. Such is the price for healing someone on the verge of dying. It takes time to recover from trading life forces but as always, Jack knew the price and he doesn’t mind paying for it.


	6. Chapter 6

Mac is looking for Jack, he’s in danger. Mac doesn’t know where he is, it’s too dark and too bright all at once, his vision obscured by a fog that doesn’t seem to be anywhere but in front of his eyes. He’s trying to catch Jack’s scent, he doesn’t know why he’s in danger, only that he has to find him before… something happens.

He lets a howl burst from his lungs, listening intently for Jack’s response. 

Then a whisper is behind him. “I’m here.”

Mac turns and feels his heart shiver.

Jack is there, kneeling, but he’s dead. Very very dead. Face and neck bloodied and ripped open in horrific wide gashes, a fleck of pristine jaw bone and teeth visible through the gore. The ground below him somehow doesn’t have a single drop of blood on it.

Mac backs away from him and snarls when Jack’s eyes open, white and most certainly blind. The smell of decay and blood are everywhere.

“Mac?” Jack whispers softly, raising up a badly mangled bloody hand to beckon him closer, and Mac backs up farther, bares his teeth at the dead man. He doesn’t know how this happened but he’s not going to let it touch him. He needs to get out of here, get away from this thing whatever it is.

“Mac…” Jack gurgles through his torn jaw at him, “why?”

Mac stops. He stares at the dead man and whines. He doesn’t understand, why what?

The bloody dead Jack lurches to his feet and reaches for Mac but Mac’s too terrified to move, his paws seem rooted to the ground unable to run. He kneels down and grips Mac by his face with his broken fingers, the crunching-grind of bone on bone echoes obscenely in his ears.

“Why did you let it get me, Mac?” Jack hisses and horror washes through Mac’s chest as memory assaults his brain. The oil creature, the fight, the agony of its fangs. He had fought that thing, he had been trying to protect Jack. Had he failed?

He wants to scream, he wants to break free of Jack’s demanding gaze but there’s nowhere to run. All he knows is the tang of blood and decay and those milky eyes wanting answers. He throws his feet in an attempt to get away, to push back from Jack’s hold-

-And he ends up on the floor of the guest bedroom with a thump, wrapped burrito style in a thick comforter.

He stands free of it, breathing hard and struggling to fill the blank spot in his mind. 

The ritual. The attack. The monster of oil and pain. But after that.... Where was Jack?

He runs from the room to find the house cold and dark around him, so quiet he can hear only the sounds of a low rumbling storm outside. He paces through the quiet first floor hall, seeing no signs of the missing man, and finds the front door cracked open with the sound of rain trickling steadily outside. He pushes it open with his nose and peers out into the gloom, the sky mostly dark aside from the faintest grey of a hidden sunrise at the horizon. The truck is still out front so Jack is here somewhere and he’s about to go inside when his keen eyes spot a dark shape laying in the mud a few yards past the porch.

It’s Jack.

Heart racing, Mac launches himself out into the icy downpour to Jack’s side, whining and pawing the man’s arm. Jack doesn’t respond but he is breathing. Looking him over, Mac can’t see any injury to him. He’s simply unconscious, collapsed on his side, shivering and completely soaked by the freezing rain. He pokes Jack’s face with his nose, whimpering and sniffing against the man’s ear in an attempt to wake him but Jack remains utterly still. He knows he has to get Jack inside, he’ll die if he gets too cold.

Mac steps around to Jack’s shoulder and carefully grips his teeth into the collar of his shirt. Jack is a fairly large man, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to move him but he has to try. Gathering his resolve, he plants his feet and pulls and Jack slides with him by a few inches. It’s not much but he’s encouraged that he can indeed do this, so he goes again. Pull and slide, pull and slide, the mud numbingly cold under Mac’s paws, but he has no intention of stopping till they’re safe inside. 

Getting him up the porch stairs is a much bigger challenge, and Mac has to use every ounce of his strength to keep Jack’s head from bouncing off the wood on each one, but at last they’re across the threshold. He stands over Jack, nosing him again but nothing changes. The wind howls outside with the storm and he wants to howl too.

If only he had hands, he could call for help, drive Jack into town, anything but the useless form he’s in now. His frustration with his helplessness is beyond measure and he stares at Jack’s shivering form. But it’s not going to do Jack any good feeling sorry for himself, he decides. He pushes the door shut as much as possible without closing it completely to keep the stormy wind outside.

Priorities. Jack is cold and he’ll get sick if he stays that way, so he has to fix that first. He scrambles for the bathroom and drags out as many towels to cover him as possible, hoping the thick material will soak up the water from his clothes. Next he runs back to the guest room and pulls the heavier comforter along with him, tugging and arranging it till it covers Jack everywhere. He stares down at his handiwork and sighs.

Jack needs more than just to be warmer, who knows what’s really wrong, but that’s about the extent of Mac’s ability to provide for him without a set of working hands. He steps close, listening to the soft whistle of Jack’s inhales and exhales, consoled a little that he’s breathing steadily. 

The real question is, should he go to find help. He goes to the window, looks out into the steady rain and thinks about it. He doesn’t know where any of Jack’s neighbors are, how close they are. And if Mac were to run up to anyone in his current form, he’s more liable to be shot at than to be received as a worried pet.

He glances back at Jack and his throat tightens at the idea of leaving his side, especially with him so completely vulnerable. Jack was supposed to have clients this afternoon, someone would come along, and when they did they’d find Jack. He just needed to keep Jack safe till they did. 

Carefully, Mac goes and curls himself up near Jack’s head, laying so that he can easily watch the door and Jack’s breathing while he waits.

The rain continues on and hours pass. Mac noses Jack’s cheek now and again, soothed feeling the returning warmth of his skin and watching the shivering subside, but Jack remains very still. He wonders what happened to cause this and silently prays for help to come soon.

Unable to do anything other than just be here, Mac dozes lightly to the sound of the rain and Jack’s steady breaths next to him and when the sound of a car door echoes outside, he jumps to his feet. He races to the window and nearly collapses in relief when he sees the familiar face of Ida.

He scrambles to the door and paws it open before running outside to the porch, barking and bouncing to get her attention. She smiles at him as she trudges through the mud up to the porch but her smile becomes uneasy as she watches Mac standing in the entry, realizing that his greeting isn’t a happy one.

“What’s wrong Mac?” She asks gently and Mac whines at her, going inside to Jack’s side. When she gets to the doorway, she’s quick to hurry to join him.

“Oh Jack, what did you do this time?” Ida whispers as she kneels down and puts a hand under Jack’s jaw with a frown. When she looks up, she meets Mac’s eyes and she sighs. “Bet he scared the hell out of you, huh buddy?”

Mac whimpers in agreement and lays down, resting his muzzle on Jack’s arm. Ida scratches at his head gently before she pulls a phone from her jeans pocket.

“Don’t worry, Mac… ain’t the first time this dunderhead overdid it, and it won’t be the last. I’ll just get some extra hands over here and we’ll get him taken care of. Thank goodness he has you looking out for him, eh?” 

Mac huffs a sigh. He doesn’t know about that but he is glad Jack won’t be alone now.

—-

A phone call and a half hour later, Jack is situated in his bed upstairs by a pair of strong farm hand neighbors, unclothed down to his boxers and left to re-warm under his comforter.

Ida had arranged everything thankfully, organizing someone to take care of the animals on the property for the next couple days. She brought water and a few wafer crackers to the side table so that Jack wouldn’t need to leave his bed immediately. He made herself a sandwich and gave half to Mac as she settled in an armchair beside the bed, watching over Jack thoughtfully.

“Don’t worry, Mac…” Ida says after a long few moments of their shared silence. “He’ll be right as rain again.” It sounds wistful, like she’s trying to convince herself.

After another quiet pause, she adds. “You know… you did a good job, looking after ‘im.” Her eyes turn to Mac, assessing him closely. “Smart boy. You got him in out of the rain. Covering him up and trying to keep him warm. Very smart. People-smart.” 

Mac’s neck prickles with worry, cocking his head to the side to stare back at her. 

“Heard of smart animals before, but you… you’re something special, ain’t you boy?” Ida asks quietly, eyes wandering to Jack and then Mac again. Mac yawns in an exaggerated way, a canine-pitched whine escaping his throat, hoping to look mundanely-dog. She leans forward with one hand and Mac meets her halfway, licking the sandwich remains from her fingers and earning a smile from the older woman.

“Glad you were here, Mac ol’ boy. Jack here needs someone to help keep an eye on him. We worry about him, ya’ know?” Ida turns her gaze back to Jack, fond and sad. “He’s been alone so long. And he takes care of so many folks here. We all love him, he’s like everyone’s big brother. But the trouble with big brothers is they never have anyone to look out for them.”

Mac watches the woman wipe at her eyes and he stands to pad forward so that he can rest his head on her leg. She looks down at him and sniffles quietly, giving him a watery smile and stroking his head.

“You’re a good one, Mac.”

The rain softens outside and Mac lets the woman’s hand soothe the worry hanging over his head. She doesn’t stay long after that, much to Mac’s regret, but she does heat him up some dinner from the fridge. 

There’s a nice pile of crumbled hamburger and torn deli-style ham on a plate for him in the kitchen and she pats his head as she heads for the door.

“I didn’t see no kibble, Mac, so this’ll have to do. I’m gonna head on home for a bit but I’ll be back this evening to check on sleepy bones. You be good and keep an eye on things, yeah?”

Mac wags his tail for her and starts to inhale the food she set out much to her amusement. 

That becomes the way of things for the next two days. Ida comes in and out to check on Jack and feed Mac, while a man Mac hears but never sees tends to the barn animals. While Ida putters about the house, tidying things, doing laundry, setting things to rights, she talks to Mac and promises him everything is going to work out. 

Mac isn’t so sure. He hates that Jack’s so still, so quiet aside from the steady breathing and beats of his heart. It’s unnatural but he looks peaceful and Ida seems very certain, so he tries to trust that she’s right. 

On the second afternoon, late in the day when the rain kicks up again, Ida calls Mac upstairs with a soft whistle. Mac hurries to her and nearly smacks into her legs when he runs through the door.

She’s watching Jack and she gives Mac a gentle smile when she looks down at him. “He’s gonna wake up soon. I’d bet the farm on it. Couple hours, tomorrow morning tops.”

Mac goes closer and stares at Jack’s still form, glancing back at Ida and trying to understand how she knows that. However she knows, it remains her secret and she merely pats the bed, encouraging Mac to get up on it.

He’s uncomfortable doing that, but he’s still playing the role of obedient animal, so he does spring up on it.

She heads for the door after that and orders just before she leaves, pointing at him with a proud smile. “Stay close to him Mac. He’ll feel more comfortable with you nearby.”

Mac settles himself down and studies Jack’s sleeping face, a yawn escaping him as he does. He’s so tired, and he wants to keep watching Jack for signs of waking but he can’t keep his eyes open much longer. He falls into sleep with the sound of light rain outside and hopes Ida’s right.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack comes back to the waking world with a slow few blinks and an odd amount of comfort.

He’s safely in his bed, warm, a bit sore but no worse for wear it seems. He stretches and flexes stiff muscles and feels surprisingly well, all of which he’s grateful for.

But then he realizes he’s not alone.

He feels the weight and warmth of a body beside him, the very faint sound of steady breathing whispers in the air nearby. Jack turns to his side to find himself face to face with a young man, blonde, muscular, lean, and also naked.

He tries to flip through his mind, tries to know who this is, but his mind is blank aside from…

The ritual. The escape. Healing. Keeping watch over the wolf.

Then his brain immediately knows who he’s seeing sleeping so peacefully beside him.

“Mac?” He asks gently and the young man’s eyes flutter open to reveal perfect blue eyes that stare back at him: first in confusion and then in relief.

“Jack.” Mac answers him with a blinding smile and Jack feels his heart stutter in his chest. But while Jack’s heart figures out how to step back into rhythm, Mac sits up and realizes where he is.

“Shit.” Mac squeaks, throwing himself off the bed and grabbing a pillow to cover his bare lower half. “I fell asleep, I didn’t mean to-! I’m so sorry, I just- I’ll be right back!” 

And then he’s gone down the stairs and Jack can’t help but blink at the place he was a moment before. 

Carefully, he swings his legs out from the blankets and feels his head spin, a rush of turmoil throbbing through his skull, gone as quick as it came, but it leaves his heart racing and wondering what the hell that was exactly.

Jack finds fresh clothes and carefully picks his way down the stairs, grinning when Mac rounds the corner, dressed in warm sweatpants and a plain gray t-shirt.

“Hey.” Jack says and Mac folds his hands and wrings them together nervously.

“Hi.” Mac says back, looking Jack up and down for a moment before he remembers how to do the whole human conversation thing. “Uh, how’re you feeling? Do you need anything?”

Jack shakes his head and makes his way for the kitchen, hearing Mac follow him along the creaking wooden boards of the floor. “I’m good, a little fuzzy, but pretty good. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

Mac hums thoughtfully and settles down into a chair at the table. “I could eat. Ida’s been feeding me, but I couldn’t exactly ask for seconds you know?”

“sure.” Jack agrees easily, “well I’ll do us a favor, and make some pancakes for dinner and you can fill me in on what’s been happening while I was out.”

Mac fills Jack in on finding him in the rain and on Ida coming by to help out while he cooks. In no time, there’s a decent pile of steaming flapjacks in front of them both and Jack sits down across from Mac.

“I’m sorry I scared you, buddy.” Jack offers sincerely before shoving a forkful of syrupy cake into his mouth. “The last thing I can really remember was planning to go feed the horses but I guess I passed out. I wish I coulda held on longer, let you know first hand what was going to happen, but what can I say, I’m only human.”

Mac nods, eyes getting distant as he thinks back over the last two days. “Ida said this has happened before. Nothing to worry about. You were so still though…”

Jack sighs. “Healing sleep. The required price of recovering from bringing someone back from the verge of death. But you’re here so it was worth it.”

Mac’s fork freezes halfway to his mouth and he stares at Jack, eyes so blue and surprised. “What?”

Jack wants to slap himself, him and his big mouth. Poor kid saved his life and he’s about to give him a complex about it. Well, he better start at the beginning at least.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Mac? Before you woke up and found me?”

Mac recounts the fight, in the broken bits and pieces he can recall and Jack nods along.

“You encountered a grim energy. A demon, succubus, a dark spirit, they have various names, but their bad news. And it found us a lot faster than I could’ve guessed it would. I’m sorry about that.” Jack offers quietly and Mac studies him, sitting back with a questioning look.

“You knew that thing was there? That it would be looking for us?” Mac asks and Jack shrugs.

“It’s always a possibility when you step into another plane, things you don’t want to meet could be hanging around. And energy is drawn to magical energy, your curse for instance. But again, we shouldn’t have been found that fast. I took extra precautions setting up the ritual to ensure we’d be protected. But…”

“But?”

Jack pauses and groans. “I know why it did now. And I’m sorry to say it’s not good news.”

Mac’s lip turns down at the edges a bit, the young man already bracing for the worst. Jack sets his fork down and stepples his hands.

“I found the root of your curse. I know where it’s origin lies, the way it functions. But trouble is… it’s inlaid with preventive measures. Whoever put this curse on your bloodline was damned sure they didn’t want another magic user removing it. Meaning…”

“Meaning it can’t be broken.” Mac sighs, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. Jack reaches over and rests his hand on Mac’s wrist.

“Hey, no. That’s not the end… It just means we’re going to have to get creative looking for answers. I’m not out of tricks, yet, kid.”

Mac opens his eyes and watches Jack, his eyes locked firmly on the hope in Jack’s. He nods after a moment and they break away to return to their pancakes. 

Clearing his throat, Mac asks, “so anyway, what happened when we got away?”

Jack shakes his head, recalling the pain and the depth of the energy he’d had to dive into for patching Mac’s battered body back together again. “The energy that got to you was devouring you from the inside, and I had to remove it. But that thing messed you up good, man. I had my work cut out for me.”

Sorrow that isn’t his own washes through Jack’s chest like a waterfall and he nearly drops his fork as he stares at Mac. Mac continues to chew his food a moment stopping only when he feels Jack’s eyes on him. The sorrow eases back and it’s filled with worry instead. Jack can feel what Mac is feeling perfectly clear but he’s not touching him.

“Jack?” Mac asks gently, and his young face is alight with some like alarm. 

“Uh…” Jack freezes, his hairs standing on end and he watches Mac shiver in response. “Did you feel that?”

Mac nods slowly, eyes transfixed on Jack. “That was- that was you?”

Jack grins a little. “Fascinating. The healing must’ve connected us on an aural link.” And it is truly fascinating, a rare circumstance he’s only heard of such things from older wiser healers, hadn’t expected to ever feel it first hand. With his empathic abilities, usually he gets only a vague sensing of someone’s emotional state, nothing as intense as this without touching. This is a soul deep connection, surprisingly strong for something created on accident.

“What does that mean exactly?” Mac asks and Jack shrugs. 

“We can sense each other on a deeper level and as for what it means, well… Honestly, I’m not sure. This is new territory for me, but I can’t imagine it’s a bad thing. If anything, this is only gonna make working together easier. It’s probably only temporary. We’ll figure it out though.”

They finish their dinner in relative quiet after that, lost to their own thoughts for a bit, and just as they’re ready to start putting things into the sink, a musical ringing echoes faintly in the house. Mac swears under his breath and hops up from the table.

“That’s gotta be Bozer. I need to get that.”

Jack waves him off. “Take your time. We can talk later.”

Mac ends up talking with Bozer for quite awhile but Jack keeps himself preoccupied in the meantime. He ends up going upstairs into the study to make notes regarding his findings, additional things to search for, and he gets so bogged down into his work, he almost misses the quiet knock at his study door.

Jack turns to face Mac, who gives him a shy smile in greeting. 

“How’s Bozer?” Jack asks and Mac shrugs.

“Good so he says. He flew out to see his family for Thanksgiving since he didn’t have to pack me along for a change. He says there was a full on brawl over who got the wishbone this year. Same old Bozer family antics.”

Jack chuckles at that and waves Mac to come in and sit down. Mac pulls up the small chair from the corner of the room and he looks over Jack’s notations across several journal notebooks, some sticking out from huge encyclopedia-like tomes.

“So…” Mac says, “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can help with?”

Jack chuckles, finishing up the last of his notes. “Probably not. Honestly most of this stuff I have to decode before I can even translate it. And besides, you’re yourself tonight, and I’m not gonna make you spend it sitting in my stuffy old office looking at this stuff. We can go watch some TV or I have a deck of playing cards around here somewhere. After our little brush with death, I think we can afford to take the night to relax, don’t you?”

Mac does indeed like the sound of that.

-

They end up settling in the kitchen, playing cards for hours on end. They talk about everything and nothing.

Jack learns a lot about Mac over the course of a three hours cards sessions.

Like for one thing, he’s incredibly smart, a brilliant young mind. He’s done a lot of learning through videos online because his resources are a bit limited, but he’s an intellectual, always seeking new knowledge. His favorite topics range from experimental physics and chemistry to philosophy.

And for another, he’s a gentle soul. It’s a great irony that he’s trapped inside the body of a wolf most of the time. It’s almost literally like putting a lamb in wolf clothing. He spends a good deal of time telling Jack that he’s noticed how much the people of this town care for Jack, and that he wishes there were more people like Jack in the world, helping because they should, not because their pocket book says so. Jack gets the feeling Mac longs to be out helping the world too.

Jack admires him already, and he has to keep his feelings firmly rooted in neutrality, lest their newly minted bond gives away his fledgling infatuation.

Mac seems beyond thrilled to have a chance to talk for himself and his steady stream of questions for Jack never seems to end. He asks about the process of combining herbs for medical purposes, wants to know more about how Jack knows what will and won’t combine to get the right mixture. Jack does his best to explain but he’s more of a hands-on teacher than a lecturer.

“I can show you more tomorrow, if you like?” Jack’s adds as he deals out the cards for a new hand. Mac’s curiosity bubbles through the bond and Jack smiles when he nods emphatically.

“I’d love that. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Jack promises. “Tomorrow I have to do some brewing down in the cellar for a handful of this and that. You’re welcome to keep me company if you think it won’t bore you to death.”

Mac barks a laugh and his happiness is utterly infectious, causing Jack to chuckle with him. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

They play a few more hands but eventually Jack yawns, causing Mac to as well.

“Sorry.” Jack shakes himself, “surprised I’m still so tired after all that sleeping.”

Mac shrugs. “It’s all good. You can go get a few more hours if you want, Ida and her friend will be here in the morning to look after the animals.”

Jack considers it a moment but Mac doesn’t seem ready to sleep yet. “What about you?”

Mac hums quietly to himself then sighs wistfully. “Probably just going to stay up and wait for the sunrise. I like to watch it coming up.”

“Care for some company?” Jack asks and Mac gives him a bright smile in response.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. The view from my porch is the best one in the whole state. How ‘bout a beer to finish off the night?”

Mac laughs and shrugs. “Why the hell not?”

Jack claps him in the shoulder. “Go head on out and I’ll be right behind you.”

When he comes back with two beers, he spots Mac sitting on the front stairs looking a little frigid so he grabs the blanket from the sofa on the way. Jack drapes it over his shoulders and offers one of the beers to the younger man, getting a soft thanks in turn.

The rains have moved off now and given them a perfect clear sky. They don’t say much for a while, just looking up out into the night sky so full of shimmering stars, sipping their beer.

“I’ve never seen the stars so clearly before.” Mac sighs gently and Jack glances over at him, watching how those blue eyes seem to glow in the star shine. 

“It’s beautiful.” Jack says and Mac agrees on a quiet hum.

When the first gray-blue glow of dawn starts to dust the horizon, Jack can’t help but ask, “when will you…?”

“Change back?” Mac finishes, giving a tiny sad smile at Jack’s nod. “First light to crest the horizon. You wouldn’t think it would be that fun to watch again and again all these years later… but I always do.”

“Why?” Jack’s truly curious and Mac shakes his head.

“I don’t know, really. I just… get this feeling that I’m not going to be able to appreciate this someday and I want to while I still can you know?”

The quiet sadness in Mac’s voice is infinitesimal compared to the ache of it in the bond. Jack rests a hand on Mac’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. They don’t say anything but the gratitude passes over to Jack loud and clear. 

When the gray dawn fades into a light blue, oranges and pinks glowing at the edges, Mac stands up and removes his clothing, setting it on the rail beside them before setting the blanket over Jack’s shoulders. He unclips the necklace resting over his breastbone and passes it back to Jack, the silver celtic knot almost white under the coming dawn.

“Thanks for dinner and the beer… and everything else.” Mac says quietly, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Keeping the necklace in his hand, Jack gives him a smile but before he can say anything there’s a flash of light that obscures Mac from his sight. There is a vague shimmer to the air like a heat mirage standing far too close and the smell of candle smoke drifts around them. It’s gone in a blink and standing where Mac was, is the wolf again. 

Despite having those bright amber eyes turn to him and the golden sunrise surrounding them,   
for the rest of the morning, all Jack can think about is the color blue.


	8. Chapter 8

After the sunrise, Mac ends up sleeping late into the morning. He had woken once to the sound of Ida’s arrival and a conversation she had with Jack but he’d been too tired to focus on it and gave himself back to sleeping.

When he wakes for the second time, the sun is bright through the living room window and he’s alert when he hears glass clinking against glass in the kitchen. He goes to check and finds Jack stacking up jars in a box, and the man smiles when he spots Mac in the doorway.

“Hey buddy, good sleep?”

Mac yawns and dips his head in answer, concerned Jack didn’t sleep after the dawn, he’s still recovering after all. Jack just shakes his head at him with a fond smile.

“Don’t go all mother hen on me now, you overgrown puppy. I’m fine. I slept for damn near three days, and I got a lot of work to catch up on.”

Mac stares at Jack for a moment in surprise and then remembers the connection they had discussed the night before. Jack could feel Mac, and he had felt the worry, had known it would be for him. Jack was right last night, this was bound to make communicating easier.

Jack picks up the box under one arm and heads for the door. “C’mon dude, bet you could use some run time after bein’ cooped up for a couple days playin’ nursemaid.”

Mac couldn’t agree more and he’s out right behind him.

He makes a run for the north fence and sighs as his fur soaks up the sunlight. The air is sharply chilled, the first touch of true winter on the breeze. All the rain from the last few days has left the ground the right amount of tacky, the kind of damp his wolf brain loves because it makes the ground soft and silent to walk through. He only takes time to sniff a few new scents and relieve himself before he’s heading back to Jack, curious what the man is working on today.

Last night, he had mentioned brewing his remedies and he’s immensely curious as to how all of that works. Jack is waiting for him by the green house with a smile when he gets back and he waves Mac over to the back side of the house. Together, they head around to a set of double doors that lead under the house.

“Fella who owned this place had himself a pretty large storm cellar put in. Not really something you need in the mountains, but I’ve found it works well for storing my herbs.”

Jack flicks the lights on and the hum of old fluorescent lights buzzes overhead, illuminating what appears to be a rudimentary laboratory. The shelves above the work table are long and lined deep with various labeled jars, and beyond that are several stacked metal shelves containing boxes of what Mac assumes are either completed orders or more supplies. 

“Alright, give me a second to drag a bench over here and I’ll show you what we’re up to today.” 

Mac watches Jack drag a larger bench from the corner over to the table, hopping up when Jack waves him to. Jack already has a few jars set out on the counter when Mac is level with the counter and he gives him a smile.

“So today, we’re making two main things today. We need my stomach remedy and cough syrup, since flu season is almost on us. Let’s begin with a little eye of newt, some crossroads dirt, and lizard tail.” Jack says grabbing three jars and setting a pot to boil on a small Bunsen burner. 

Mac can’t help the disgust that washes through him and he stares at Jack in shock who merely winks back. 

“Gotcha.” Jack laughs and Mac’s shock is swept away by Jack’s amusement bubbling through the bond. “This ain’t Harry Potter dude. No bubble and toil in my work space. We’re practicing some basic cooking. Mainly we’re working with ginger root and peppermint today. Peppermint can be very strong scented when it’s boiling down though, so let me know if you need to step out, okay?”

Mac nods and lets his mind sink into watching Jack work. It’s basic chemistry really, combine one product to another to achieve x result. But it’s magical in its own way, the smooth certainly of what must be a second-nature task to Jack. The process has multiple steps, Jack transitions to one and then the other without missing a beat. Boiling this, adding that, the air is alight with sweet fragrances and warmth that makes Mac’s chest feel open and at ease.

They’re at it for a while, Jack making light small talk with Mac while he works and occasionally asking his opinion on what things smell better than others. In the end, they stop for a late lunch break while Jack laments one of his clients woes as they raid the kitchen for sandwiches.

“You see this girl of theirs, Ellie, she’s three. Poor thing is always bogged down with some sort of sniffles or cold. Immuno issue as I understand it. And I know I could get her loads better if she would just take this cough remedy. But I’ve tried flavoring it with all sorts of sweet things and the kid can always tell it’s there. I just don't know what else to try.” Jack sighs, making himself a PBJ and giving Mac his in quarters. “It’s the damnedest thing, you know?”

Mac nods as he bites his sandwich, considering what Jack said. If they could help this girl, find a way to hide the flavor of the medicine, it could drastically improve her life. But how? He licks his maw to get a bit of spilled blackberry jam, wishing he could take in a whole spoonful of the stuff for its texture and sweetness and suddenly he finds himself with a possibility of an idea.

He jumps to his feet and heads for the counter, looking between Jack and the jam jar sitting by the edge. Jack watches him, eyes narrowed, trying to understand why Mac is so excited over the jam.

“Like it? Home brewed by a lady in town.”

Mac flicks his ear in frustration, shaking his head before he pokes the jar with his nose. Jack spreads his open hands before him, lost on Mac’s message.

“I got nothing, man. You have to give me more than that.”

Mac huffs, thinking of their bond which is filled with questions from Jack’s end. If only he could send a word or a picture, Jack would understand he knows it. He stares at the jam jar before looking back at Jack and he thinks hard.

MEDICINE.

Jack’s eyes go wide and he stares open mouthed at Mac. “Did you just…?”

Mac watches Jack hurry to the counter, grabbing the jam before staring down at Mac with excited eyes.

“You’re a fucking genius, Mac!” Jack crows, cradling the jar in his hands like it might be a treasure beyond value. “The sugar content of the jam could cover the flavor of the medicine and the consistency would be too thick for a kid to notice. Holy crap… Mac, I could kiss you!”

Jack puts the jar down and leans down to grab Mac around the chest, swinging him around once with glee. As soon as he sets Mac down, he grabs the jar and heads for the door.

“C’mon, dude we have work to do!”

Mac grabs his forgotten sandwich half and trots out after Jack, his head and his heart full to the brim with so much excitement he can’t tell which of them is feeling it.

—

As it so happens, the idea works quite well, and Mac’s never been more happy to be a part of something. The last time he really contributed to something was before all this curse business began and it was a freshman group science fair project so nothing to be proud of really.

Jack’s happy too,or so he gathers from  
the simmering warmth in the bond. He wears the biggest grin when the clients the medical jam was for call in the next couple days with nothing but praise for the innovative idea.

“Well I can’t take all the credit.” Jack tells them, giving Mac a wink while they eat dinner. “Had a very smart friend of mine make the suggestion. Yes of course, I’ll tell him you said thank you.”

Mac can’t keep his tail from wagging for the rest of the evening.

As the days go on, Mac gets to know Jack’s work on a much deeper level and he learns the repeat clients by name. 

There’s Ida of course, who twice a week picks up a jar of a dark colored gel and a smaller box of homemade tea bags. He doesn’t know what Jack’s helping her with yet, they never discuss it outright, but she always thanks Jack with a hug. She also always brings Mac some sort of treat and tells him to watch after ‘this big lughead for me’. Jack complains every time, tells her to stop bad mouthing him like an old church gossip. Mac loves when Ida visits.

There’s also a young man, Rob, who’s a recent widower raising two young boys. The younger boy appears to have a serious chronic case of allergies to just about everything and Jack apparently has a remedy that keeps the worst of the symptoms at bay. But while Jack talks to Rob about the boys, the boys play and give their dad a moment to just talk to someone without his brave mask in place. Mac likes the boys, who are mischievous and energetic, and decides the next time they come around he just might have to play with them.

And Ashley, a young lady who’s taking care of her elderly parents, comes by three times one week, but Jack says that’s not normal for her. Jack has her order of whatever supplies she needs on hand when she arrives but he’s always quick to offer her a cup of tea and at least fifteen minutes of time to talk. He’s got advice for their care but he’s resolute in assuring her she’s doing well, reminding her to take care of herself too.

There’s dozens of them, all needing help with this or that, and Jack turns none of them away.

One time, he even takes a late ‘emergency’ appointment when his phone rings at a few minutes after midnight. A young couple shows up, frantic and jittering with anxiety and Jack is quick to handle them into a state of calm using a tiny push of his power. After a few minutes of panicked babbling, the couple explains that the baby they’re expecting, six months along, has been very still all evening and their doctor in the next town over wasn’t answering their calls. Jack politely requests to touch the young woman’s protruding belly and smiles at them warmly after a moment. “She’s just being a little lazy, but she’s doing just fine.” The couple is nearly in full tears when Jack steps back, relief in their apologies and thank yous. Jack is quick to dismiss them and wave them off as they head home for the night, promising them that it’s no trouble at all.

Mac loves watching Jack with his people. They’re all good people and Mac doesn’t miss the gentle fondness from Jack’s side of the link that gives away the love for what he does. Jack is making a real difference in their lives and it’s a true honor to be here to witness it in person. 

The only thing that doesn’t make sense to Mac is that Jack doesn’t seem to be aware of how amazing what he’s doing really is. Whenever a client tells him something about it, tells him he’s a miracle worker, a godsend, a saint, Jack just laughs it off and goes right back to keeping this little town’s citizens alive, one kind smile at a time.

Mac is constantly amazed by this humble man and he can’t imagine how watching Jack work would ever get old.

A quick two weeks pass, days full to the brim of clients and work to be done. Horses cared for, plants tended, dinner finished, they wind the evening down and Jack retreats to do his nightly reading on Mac’s curse. Mac heads out for his last run of the evening, getting lost in the cold mountain air and the scents it brings. Far distant coyote yips carry in the night air and Mac listens to them calling, the animal half of him recognizes it as the call of gathering. Pack. Family. 

On a whim, he answers their shrill yips with a long howl of his own and listens to it ring off the mountains around him. The night goes silent as the echo of his call fades away and the wolf’s heart aches in its loneliness. No pack, no family. Alone. It wants to continue calling, hoping there will be an answer but Mac knows better, and he heads inside for the warmth of Jack’s cozy home. 

He glances at the clock and notices Jack’s upstairs study light is still on. Which is odd, he doesn’t tend to work too late into the evening because of his early rise time. Mac quietly creeps up the stairs, pushing into the study, and he finds Jack slumped over his desk, face pillowed on one arm.

At first, Mac’s afraid it’s like that morning in the rain but when he trots closer he can see that Jack’s not as still as he was then, he’s sleeping but not very deeply. There’s little twitches under his eyes and sighs that promise to turn into snores, and the way his fingers twitch suggest he might have just fallen asleep.

Mac feels a wash of exasperated fondness through his chest for the man, so busy working he forgot he’d need to sleep. Cautiously, he noses Jack’s nearest arm and the man startles awake with a snort.

“Huh? Mac? What is it?”

Mac gently guides his head under Jack’s arm and focuses on thinking two words loudly.

LATE. BED.

Jack shakes his head, clearly not put off by Mac’s communication, “I’m good, I can keep at it for a little longer…”

Mac whines a low plaintive sound and that makes Jack look down at him with sleep glazed eyes, sighing. “Alright, alright… enough for one night, I get it, I’m going to bed. You big mama hen.”

Jack stands and stretches, kicking off his boots inside his bedroom and throwing his shirt to the corner hamper as he goes. Mac watches him flop belly down on his bed still in his jeans, making sure he is indeed settling in to sleep.

After, Mac trots down the stairs and to the couch, nosing his way under the blanket. He curls into himself, the soft sounds of an old home creaking peacefully around him, and a whisper soft word tickles across his mind.

_“Goodnight.”_

Mac feels amusement tickling it way down through the bond from Jack and he sends it back with his own. He falls into sleep shortly after where he dreams of coyote songs and chasing an answering howl in the distance while the moon lights the way.


	9. Chapter 9

Over the few days leading up to the Christmas holiday, Jack is busy as ever with extra requests. Not just medicinal products, there’s the usual asks but there’s also luxury bath bombs with herbal infusions and extra scented hand lotions for people to send to family. Jack’s been told by a number of people he should sell these in the common markets, patented and all, but he doesn’t think he could undertake such a large idea on his own, he has plenty to do as it is.

Such as prepping the green house when the winter weather begins to strike hard and true in the coming days, wind, rain and fog laying siege to his mountain home. Mac hangs out with him in the green house, soaking up the warmth of the humid inner air and watching Jack prep the vents to let less air out and ensuring the insulation will hold through the coming harder weather. He’s pleasant company, the steady hum of his presence in the bond is reassuring and it keeps Jack surprisingly focused. When the work is done on the green house, Jack turns his attention to the barns and the chicken coop.

Mac is his shadow as he works back and forth, re-haying and inspecting every wall. As it turns out, he’s glad for those extra keen eyes because the wolf is quick to spot a loose panel here or a draft there. It’s a time saver no doubt, keeping Jack from having to do later date repairs in the biting cold whenever the snow eventually arrives.

The last thing to do before it’s all said and done is to blanket all the horses with their heavy winter covers. When he’s finished, he turns to Mac who inspects eleven blanketed horses, four having gone home after thanksgiving, and asks how they look.

Mac cocks his head this way and that and nods, a flicker of amusement in approval. Jack smiles.

“They look a little silly with their coats on, don’t they? Like marshmallows on sticks.”

Mac’s mirth is brighter and Jack has no doubt he’d be laughing if he could. Jack can’t wait to hear him laugh for real, wonders if the sound is as beautiful as his eyes, a thought Jack shakes away quickly. They start out of the barn for the house, and Jack explains as he closes up the doors.

“Well, silly or not, they’ll be needing it. Weather reports say we’re in for a hard snow soon, and trying to wrangle cold-frisky horses is no fun.”

There’s a hot bolt of exclamation through the bond and Jack turns to Mac expecting something to be afraid of, but instead he finds the wolf watching the sky.

Snow!? Mac says, looking between Jack and the sky. When?

Jack understands suddenly. Mac’s lived in California his whole life. He’s probably never seen snow. He can’t help the tender happiness that springs to his heart for this, a little bit of joy Mac can have without regret about not experiencing it in a human form. 

“Your first snow huh?” Jack clarifies and Mac bounces a little in eager agreement. “You shouldn’t have to wait too long. Winter hits like a hammer here and it hangs on with both hands for a month or two at least. You’ll be sick of snow by the time we’ve got you sorted out. But at least you come with a built in fur coat.”

-

With Christmas Eve upon them, and all the clients having made their last visits, Jack settles in to take a break. Usually from Christmas Eve to the first week of January, Jack can take some down time for himself when everyone is off visiting family for the holiday. He plans to take his time waking up, no pressing thing to take on today but that goes out the window when Mac wakes him by springing up on his bed.

Jack surges up to stare at Mac but the excitement in those golden eyes is explanation enough without the OUTSIDE that flashes across his brain like a neon sign. Glancing out the window as he dresses and chuckling as Mac thunders down the stairs like a herd of elephants, he smiles at the snow covering the landscape.

When he comes down the stairs, bundled up because his bones won’t thank him for pretending he doesn’t need it, and slips on his boots Mac bounces nearby barely able to contain himself.

Jack doesn’t make him wait. He opens the door, unveiling the vast untouched powdery cold and the resounding awe in the bond floats down to him. 

Mac glances up at Jack and he waves a hand at him.

“Go for it.”

Mac springs off the porch into the first few inches deep snow bank and when he looks back at Jack, Jack swears he’s smiling. Hopping up and down like a fox hunting mice, Mac jumps back and forth, sinking deeper into the snow drifts, making excited yips as he examines the cold slush around his paws.

Jack laughs when the cold invigorates him like it does most animals, and he takes off like a golden furred rocket, racing around in wide circles, tumbling and rolling across the snow before racing off again. Mac comes skidding to a stop in front of the porch panting, eyes wild and pleased with himself, and a word tugs at Jack.

COME.

Jack can feel the joy burning bright and hot in Mac and he doesn’t think he could tell him no. He steps down to meet Mac and he ruffles the dense fur at his shoulders to shake loose the clumps of snow.

“What do you think?” Jack asks and Mac’s answer is obvious when he springs upward in place. He races forward again and back to Jack, another word between them.

HORSES?

Jack nods. Mac most likely wants to know what the horses will do with the snow and he figures they’d probably like a chance to stretch their legs so he heads out to the barn. He can’t let them wander down to the far grazing pasture, the snow banks will obscure the trail but he can put them on the side field. He clips his retired cutting horse to a lead and opens the other paddocks, leading a trail of horses to where they’ll be while he gets breakfast in their stalls.

Mac follows them dutifully, studying each one and waiting patiently while Jack leads them to the field. Once they’re all safely enclosed, Jack watches Mac snuffling along the snow in interest and he decides to let him have a moment.

“I’m gonna feed these kids and then I’ll start breakfast. Sound good?”

Mac’s too enthralled with whatever scent he’s caught and he keeps at it while Jack heads off. He’s not gone long, maybe twenty minutes tops, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the sight he walks back out to.

One of the horses, a younger filly, is playing with Mac. The yearling is racing down the fence line and Mac is following her along. She dances and whirls at one end, knickering excited sounds while Mac yaps at her, before the chase begins again. The behavior is so innocent and free spirited, Jack can’t help but stare.

When they had been in the fae world, Jack had sensed Mac’s deeper mind, the part of him that was resigned to his cursed form and the discontent that came with that. He had felt Mac was longing for things, nothing near enough to the surface for Jack to know immediately, but he couldn’t help wishing he could just set him free. This kid deserves a chance to live and do whatever he wants with his life. He’s had to give up nine years, almost ten, to this damn curse, he shouldn’t have to live this way. Whatever his long distance douchebag ancestor did to cause this, surely the debt is long paid now. He deserves to have moments like this for the rest of his life.

Mac comes running along to him after a moment, panting and beaming with happiness, and Jack can’t help smiling back at him with the joy in their bond infectiously bright.

“Havin’ fun?”

Mac cocks his head to one side and Jack only has a brief flash of amusement to prepare himself before Mac turns around and begins to dig up snow at him as fast as he can.

“Hey, Mac what-!” Jack laughs, shielding his face from the snow spray. Mac runs ahead of him by a few feet, crouched and ready to move, and Jack grins at him before scooping up a handful of snow into his gloved palms. “Oh it’s on now buddy.”

Mac’s tail swings vigorously while he dodges back and forth, obviously daring Jack to hit him with a snowball. Challenge accepted.

The game goes on for a good few minutes, Jack’s got a pretty good arm but Mac’s fast and agile. Jack isn’t as young as he used to be yet he does manage to score a few hits, but eventually, he has to call a halt when the cold starts seeping into his fingers.

“Alright speedy, you win. I gotta go warm up a bit, but you’re welcome to keep at it if you like.”

Mac nods and looks off toward the mountain behind them. He wants a better view, Jack figures and he doesn’t blame him.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna get some breakfast going. Take your time, have fun.”

Mac nods before he starts a slow lope for the field and Jack watches him go even as he heads to the house, smiling when the wolf fades into the landscape. 

—

Mac spends most of the afternoon out, becoming one with the wild so Jack consequently spends most of the afternoon researching the curse.

It’s a tedious thing, decoding, checking references, and noting the code words. He’s translating from witch’s code in some old Gaelic tongue to a very broken version of English that he has to keep refining. But, despite the time it’s taking, the truth is he’s making good progress.   
He can tell he’s getting closer to what he’s looking for, it’s just not quite there yet. A couple days, he reckons, he’ll either have an answer or a lead for the next book he’ll need to decode.

The day passes and by mid afternoon, when Jack notices he’s attempted to decode the same line four times, he decides it’s time for a break. He checks the time, it’s nearly sundown, and he hasn’t seen hide nor tail of Mac all day he realizes. He’s heading down the stairs to go look for him when his phone rings and he answers as Bozer’s name appears on the screen.

“Merry Christmas!” Bozer greets enthusiastically and Jack laughs. 

“Merry Christmas to you too. How are you, Boze?”

“Hotter than a flash-fried turkey. Visiting my mom in Florida and it’s crazy hot!”

Jack smiles, he can imagine. “A little sweat never hurt nobody.”

“True.” Bozer agrees, “how’s it going?”

Jack shrugs despite Bozer not being able to see it. “We’re making progress. Slow progress but still progress.” He doesn’t mention the near miss from the fae world, doesn’t want to worry the other man needlessly. It had turned out fine in the end, that’s what matters. 

“And how’s my brother doing?”

“Good. Really good.” Jack says immediately, catching sight of Mac laying on his back just outside the back door, rubbing his body to and fro in the snow. “Hang on I’ll get him for you.”

Jack steps outside and Mac hops up, loping over when he sees the phone in his hand. He puts it on the video chat as Mac sits down beside him.

“Here he is.” Jack announces holding the phone out so both of them fill up the screen.

“Hiya Mac!” Bozer waves, smiling brightly, “merry Christmas brother. Missing you like crazy. You doing good?”

Mac’s tongue lolls out as he pants, looking at Jack before the words FUN and SNOW blaze across his mind. Jack laughs.

“He’s having fun. It snowed here last night. He’s been all over the place running around.” He turns the scene around so that the white landscape can be seen and when he turns the screen back Bozer’s grin is even brighter.

“It snows in Texas?!” Bozer laughs and Mac huffs a playfully sound but his happiness is radiating out to Jack like a fire. Jack sets the phone on the porch railing.

“I’ll give you fellas some privacy. Mac, you ready to eat?”

Mac nods at him and Jack retreats to the kitchen to heat up some dinner so that the brother’s can have a conversation in peace. 

-

Later on, after partaking of a delicious casserole one of his clients dropped off, Jack and Mac end up on the couch watching Home Alone. It’s peaceful, just the movie playing and the snow falling steadily outside. Mac stretches out on one side of the sofa with a wide yawn, eyes blinking heavily against sleep, and Jack can’t help poking him with a grin.

“Overdid it playing, huh?”

The word FUN echoes in Jack’s head and he laughs a little.

“I know. If you’re tired, you can go sleep in the guest bed. You were always welcome to, I hope you know?”

Mac sighs, resting that broad golden head on his paws. COMFORTABLE is the next word Jack hears but this time it’s a whisper, so very tired. Without thinking about it, Jack reaches over and runs his hand over Mac’s head, petting backward gently to his ears. Jack is about to correct himself, apologize for overstepping with instincts regarding animal care, but there’s a sharp pang of relief at the touch and a shy fluttering craving for more.

It suddenly occurs to him, truly understanding for the first time, that Mac is very alone in this form. Not animal enough to truly connect with other animals and he only has Bozer and himself as people aware of his human mind. That’s the real curse. Being an animal isn't so bad, but Mac’s as alone as he can possibly be. A wolf with no pack. A soul unable to reach out for help. It’s particularly unfair and he wonders for the hundredth time what Mac’s ancestor did that caused a curse for his entire bloodline.

He doesn’t say anything about it, but Jack continues to stroke Mac’s head and the relief he felt from before blossoms into a warm contentment. Mac sighs again and when his eyes close, they don’t reopen, but Jack gets the feeling he’s still awake and luxuriating in the moment of having this small comfort. Jack continues to stroke the soft fur under his hand and doesn’t stop till Mac’s breathing is deep and even. He covers him with the comforter before he heads to bed and silently prays he can find an end to the curse so this remarkable young man doesn’t have to be alone anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

The sun comes out after Christmas Day and the snow starts to melt back a bit. Mac doesn’t mind it, surprisingly, he’s just enjoying the cold day for what it is. He lazes on the porch in a sunshine patch, breathing the cold winter air and relishing in the burn of its freshness. It’s a beautiful day, the crisp colored sky a vivid backdrop to the sound of birds celebrating the clear weather.

It’s days like these he and the wolf half of his mind are fairly at peace with each other. They don’t always sync well, having different needs and desires. The wolf side wants to wander and keep moving, but his personal mind can’t always ignore the discomforts the outdoors can bring. But this, right now, is perfect.

He’s at ease and grateful to have this freedom. He stands, stretching each leg one at a time, before he pads down the steps to go for a quick run to indulge the wolf’s need to do a ‘territory check’. He turns south, following the wind, and he’s just made it a quarter mile past the fence when a painful flash of multiple distorted emotions goes across his mind from Jack’s end of the bond, too many too fast to understand each one individually.

Something’s wrong and it’s hurting Jack, whatever it is. There’s an ache burning down to him and it sends him flying as fast as his feet carry him back to the house. He’s back up on the porch, pushing the door open to find the man, but Jack’s standing at the top of the stairs, expecting him. His usually kind face is an unhappy slate of stone and it puts a knot in Mac’s throat. 

Jack steps slowly down the stairs, head hung down, and when he stands in front of Mac, he can see regret written in his eyes. The bond aches intensely now that Mac is standing here so close.

“Mac, I think we need to sit down and have a talk. I found…” Jack starts quietly but before he can go on, the sound of a semi distant car horn honking repeatedly, moving closer, reaches them both.

“What the hell?” Jack says, flashing an annoyed look at the door. 

They both step outside just as a rusted truck comes skidding through the snow up to the porch with two men in the cab. One hops out, blood on his face and arm but he doesn’t come to Jack he goes around to the other side of the truck and helps out an older man, his arm cradled to his chest and bleeding.

“What the hell?” Jack says, annoyance replaced with alarm. “Ronny? What happened?” 

The younger man, walking the older man up the porch answers, “Jack, there’s an accident over at the old Hester place. Bunch’a guys got hurt.”

Mac follows them into the house as Jack helps the older man sit on his staircase, examining the man’s bloody limb. Jack’s previously turmoiled end of the bond is now calm and steady again, even if it’s surprisingly blank of reaction.

“How many hurt? How bad?” Jack presses and the younger man fumbles his answer a bit in his panic, eyes wide with fear.

“I’m not sure, five at least. They was workin’ on the old outer barn when the roof fell in. Snow was too heavy I think. Ol’ Miss Hester came over a’screamin’ about them bein’ stuck!”

Jack nods. “Called 911?”

Ronny replies shakily, running his hands through his disbelieved hair. “Yeah but the snow has the roads all fucked up. Ambulance is an hour out at least, maybe. Miss Hester said you might could help, the others oughta be right behind me. Is he gonna be alright?”

Jack reapplies pressure on the wound, forcefully grabbing Ronny’s hand to apply the towel to a particular spot on the older man’s arm. “Ronny hold this. I gotta get some stuff. Mac, come.”

Jack heads for the cellar and Mac is quick to follow. Keeping his voice low but still completely steady, Jack begins, “Mac go to the back shelf on the left hand side there’s a big gray duffel bag. I need it, bring it to me.”

Mac runs to comply and when he comes back, carrying the heavy bag in his teeth, he finds Jack digging in a hidden compartment safe by the herbal brewing table. Jack pulls a handful of small glass bottles out and sets them on the edge of the table, counting and speaking to himself. One of the bottles, Mac gets a quick glimpse before Jack picks it up to put in his pocket, is labeled morphine. 

At Mac’s concerned look, Jack takes the bag from him and he sighs, “This is my rainy day fund and I’d say it’s a’rainin’. I don’t know what’s gonna be comin’ in but this could be bad. If you need to get out of here, go to the barn and I’ll come get you when it’s over. Understand?”

He understands but Mac can’t hide his worry for Jack, though. If the man had to sleep for two days because he healed Mac, what’ll happen if he heals five people? He can vividly remember that conversation from the first night at dinner, the pouring too much water from the pitcher analogy. Jack could die. Jack pats his head as he strides by, back up to the house.

“Don’t worry, Mac. Herbal healing ain’t my only skill.”

When they get back to the house, Jack unbuttons the bag he took from Mac and unfurls it to reveal an array of medical supplies ranging from needles and syringes to gauze packs. The first thing he grabs is a stethoscope to drape around his neck and he does it with such ease, Mac realizes Jack looks perfectly prepared. 

Mac watches Jack begin to tend to the man’s arm when the sound of two more cars arriving gets their attention. Everything that happens after that is chaos.

Two more injured men are carried in and Jack takes charge despite the yelling and the blood that begins to slick the wooden floor. 

“What do you got there?”

The younger man holding his friend looks at Jack with stricken eyes. “He’s not breathin’ good. A beam fell on him but he’s not bleedin’ anywhere.”

Jack nods and looks at the other man who’s just been settled on the floor by a young woman. “What about him?

The woman answers, slinging a fresh towel over her shoulder as she kneels down to the man who bites down a scream, “His leg, it’s bleedin’ too much to stop. There’s something stuck in it.”

Jack hops up from tending to the older man’s arm and he takes a look at the man hollering in pain. He removes the towel only enough to see the wound once before he nods at the woman.  
“Alright you keep putting pressure on this and let me check this fella o’er here. Was this all of you?”

The woman sniffs a bit but shakes her head as she wipes her face, putting a streak of blood on her cheek. “No they we pullin’ Mister Hester out and I think one of the boys was still under the roof. Miss Hester told us to get goin’ though.”

Mac watches as Jack yanks his bag over to the man having trouble breathing, listening twice with his stethoscope before he begins to dig in his supplies. 

“One’a his lungs collapsed.” Jack reports mildly, while said man gurgles in pain. The friend with him whispers a few curses under his breath but Jack wastes no time, firmly jabbing a long needle into his upper chest. The man gasps a tortured cough and a wretched hisses leaks out of the needle still grasped between Jack’s fingers, but the look of agony in the man’s face fades immediately. Turning to the friend he orders, “stay with him, if he starts havin’ trouble breathing again lemme know.”

Jack returns to the man with the injured leg as a police siren announces its arrival and Mac steps away from the door just as it slams open to reveal a broad shoulder sheriff. 

“Dalton.” The sheriff says, hurrying over, “I’ve been radioing dispatch, EMS is enroute, forty minute ETA. What do you need?”

Jack doesn’t look up from his work but his response is instant. “We have three rapid transports, one with a pneumothorax. Hand me that gauze. You went by Hester’s?”

Mac listens as Jack and the sheriff talk but he’s not paying any mind to the conversation itself, but more the way they talk about it. Both men talk like this is just a walk in the park for them, nothing frightening or life changing, like the bloody covered floor and gruesome wounds in front of them are nothing but ordinary. He can understand how the sheriff might not be concerned, a first responder who’s clearly seen some years in the field, but Jack’s work tends to the mundane side of things and he wonders how Jack is so ready to handle this.

Another car arrives a minute later and Mac is shoved aside when several people stomp in, an old man being walked inside as another voice shouts, “Jack, we need ya!”

Jack turns to them, going to peek under the towel held against the man’s arm. A jet of bright red blood rockets out, spraying Jack’s cheek as the crowd of people around the injured man shout in shock. There’s a loud rise of voices from the group, Mac manages to hear Jack’s voice demanding the sheriff to get dispatch back on the line but there’s another noise over the din that’s caught his attention, that keeps him from watching the scene in the makeshift trauma room.

Crying.

A child crying for that matter.

Mac follows the sound out the front door and he finds a little boy, his face dirty and streaked with tears. He’s about four or five years old if he could guess, sad and looking so utterly lost. It’s a feeling Mac’s pretty familiar with. 

Cautiously, he goes over to the boy, who’s covered in a huge yellow coat that’s clearly loaned to him. The boy whimpers, taking a step back and looks pitifully at the front door.

“Grandpa...” he cries and Mac’s heart aches at the sound. The older man must be who the boy is here for. There’s more shouting from inside and a scream of pain that has the little boy squalling louder with fear, and it makes Mac realize he needs to get him away from the horror inside. He can’t help Jack, as much as he wishes he could, but he can help the boy.

Mac goes through his normal happy dog routine, wagging his tail and bumping the boy’s arm in a bid for attention. It works eventually, a tiny hand fisting tightly in the thick fur at his shoulder.

“Puppy…” the boy whimpers, tucking his wet cheek against Mac’s neck for a moment. Mac takes a step and then another and the boy follows along with him, slow progress but still progress, and he leads him to the back of the house where the wind is blocked and the boy will be warmer. Mac lays down and flops on his back, wagging his tail, and the boy’s tears slow a bit as he sits down to stroke Mac’s furred chest, amused by his antics. It’s not much of a distraction, but it works, and Mac hopes he can keep the boy calm while the men in the house work to save his grandpa.

While he plays the puppy role for the small child, he lets himself refocus on the bond, reaching out to feel Jack’s mind. It’s carefully blank, totally calm, the only clue that he’s still there is the small neon flares of frustration that flutter up and out from time to time.

He and the boy sit for quite awhile, merely company for each other but safely out of the chaos. When sirens come again, this time the distinctive wail of an ambulance, Mac can’t help feeling some relief because he knows help has arrived. 

Eventually, everyone is handled, the EMS units that arrived sort out the well triaged and treated wounded men and speed away to seek hospitals nearby. An older woman comes and gathers the boy up from Mac, soothing his sad whimpers with a big hug and a promise that all will be well. 

The people who brought in the injured men come give Jack their thanks, promising to update him when they know something. Jack waves them off, saying only that he was glad he could help. The sheriff is the last to leave, shaking hands with Jack before telling him, “believe it or not, you’re a miracle Jack. What would've happened if we didn’t have you?”

With the sheriff gone after that, Jack and Mac are left in their quiet little corner of the world and the previously bright blue sky seems a little darker.

Jack spots Mac as he sits down on the stairs, blood still in his face but his hands are clean and he gives a tired smile. “Hey bud. You alright?”

Mac snorts as he pads closer, he doesn’t know what he is right now, and Jack nods with a sigh.

“Yeah me too. You did good with the kiddo though. Thank you for doin’ that.”

He can’t help but stare at Jack in surprise even as he sits down beside him. How had Jack even seen that? He’d been elbows deep in blood and chaos, yet he’d still noticed the crying child and Mac’s absence. 

Jack just shrugs at the mental question, nonchalant eyes scanning the distance, “I could sense his distress but it got quieter when you went outside. I’m more attuned to the details in situations like that. Survival instincts max out the empathy senses, I guess.”

Mac studies him, amazed and full of questions. Like how did he know how to do all that stuff? How was he so calm? He wants know if those people will live but he’s suddenly exhausted now that the madness of all that fear and panic is gone. He’ll try to figure out how to get his answers later.

Jack stands with a groan before going to head inside and Mac pauses at the door with him, taking in the room that looks like a crime scene with blood and towels scattered everywhere.

Jack sighs. “Guess I’ve got some work to do.” 

He gathers up a number of cleaners, towels, a mop and sets about trying to scrub the blood off the floor. Mac cringes at the tang chemicals mixing with the iron scent of blood and tries to stay out of his way. Jack stays quiet while he works and Mac studies him.

Jack isn’t usually this quiet, even when he’s tired at the end of a long day, he usually makes an effort to try to talk with Mac. But now… his eyes look far away and his end of the bond is oddly muted, present but purposely distant. It’s unnerving.

After an hour, Mac can’t stand the silence and when Jack leans heavily against a wall with something like sadness in his eyes, he grabs his shirt sleeve with his teeth.

Jack’s awareness resurfaces and when he makes eye contact with Mac he looks worried. “You okay?”

Mac shakes his head and paws at Jack's booted foot, echoing those words right back at him. At first, Jack starts to smile but it slips from his face and the muted presence in the bond pulses with unpleasant hesitation.

“I’m fine, I just… earlier, when you came back in, I had found something I need to tell you…. About your curse.” Jack sighs and sags down the wall till he’s seated on the bottom stair, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not good.”

Mac’s heart drops at the sympathetic look in Jack’s eyes before the older man takes a slow breath and explains.

“This morning I found a type of guide, I guess you’d call it, user manual, whatever, for curses like yours. It makes a lot of poetic statements about how the cursed person is bound to the cycle of the moon, blah blah blah. It’s a dead ringer for your situation, though. Takes hold when ‘a seed becomes a tree’ or when a child reaches adulthood. The cursed is to walk alone, neither man nor animal fully, his heart split in half. Accurate description right?”

Mac swallows and nods, so Jack continues quietly. “It says the curse shall remain till the moon has passed ten winters and… the man’s heart will be eaten by the wolf.”

Mac feels his blood turning to ice. He had always guessed he was doomed but he supposes he could never have truly prepared himself to hear it confirmed.

Jack tries to reassure him. “I don’t want you to go freakin’ out. Nothin’ about magic is a hundred percent certain and I need to verify something first but… if this info is correct…”

Mac doesn’t need to hear him say it. Ten winters. He’s in the tenth winter. When it’s over… he’ll be gone. Jack didn’t say dead but his heart eaten by the wolf sounds pretty telling of his fate.

It’s the end of December right now. He has a couple months left at best.

He turns around and pushes the door open, racing out into the slushed snow, ignoring Jack’s voice as he tries to call him back. 

But Mac won’t be stopped. He has to get out of here. He’s off the porch when he feels Jack’s hand by his tail, feels his boots right on his heels and he lets his feeling on the matter be plain.

He turns to face Jack and flashes his teeth in a furious snarl, the growl that rises in his throat has Jack stepping back instantly.

“Mac, wait. ” Jack says quietly, reaching toward him, and any other time Mac would’ve listened, but not now. 

ALONE. He says hard inside the bond, emphasizes it by snapping his teeth once and Jack flinches even if he doesn’t back away. Mac doesn’t wait for his permission, he turns and races over the ground as fast as his feet can take him.

Jack’s pleas try to reach him through the link but he can’t bear to hear it. He closes himself off, pulls a blank slate of nothingness to cover their bond and keeps running, even if he doesn’t know to where.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, you guys are almost caught up to as far as I have written so I might delay the next couple updates but believe me when I say we’ve got a ways to go yet. We’ll be hitting the half way mark in about... 3-4 chapters. Be patient with me, real life is kinda kicking me in the face but I will finish this story. 
> 
> Thanks guys for all the love and the beautiful comments, you don’t know how much it all means to me. ❤️❤️❤️

Mac doesn’t come back that night and he’s gone all the next day. The bond is utterly painfully quiet.

Jack paces the house like a ghost and worries about him. He’s replayed their conversation about the curse a few hundred times in his head. He should’ve worded it differently, shouldn’t have come right out with it. He should’ve lead with telling him that it’s not good news, but not a dead end as he’d made it sound. Hell, he could’ve shown him the translation, the discrepancies between the words that gave Jack the impression there was still more research to be done. 

Instead in his exhausted state, he’d just told Mac the cold hard facts with no hope at all. And now he’s gone.

Jack can still feel the bond, like a far distant hum in his head so he knows Mac’s alive, but he’s still worried about him. The way Mac had screamed the word ALONE, both a demand and a state of mind, at Jack before the slamming the bond shut had hurt. Jack can still feel the ache in it, Mac’s despair at what he was certain was a death sentence. And Jack will admit it doesn’t look good, but he’s not ready to call it quits yet.

He stands on the back porch as the sky goes dark after sundown, watching a sluggish heavy storm cloud as it brings snow over the mountain. The wind rattles the house like it’s going to try to blow them off the mountainside but the house has withstood worse than this, he’s not worried about the storm. He’s too busy scanning the white landscape for a familiar golden figure.

Jack draws in a breath and lets a long loud howl out, watching his breath steam the air in front of him to be yanked away by the wind. He listens but there’s nothing but silence, both in his head and on the mountain. He has to go inside eventually, the chill biting his fingers insistently, but he can’t bring himself to tuck in and get comfortable with a blanket so he settles at the kitchen table with a coffee and his thoughts.

He wishes he knew where he was, would rather see the wolf than just feel the distance of their connection. He’s worried about Mac but he’s fairly certain giving the younger man his space was the right call. After all, Mac’s young but he’s not foolish, he’s not going to throw himself off a cliff or something because he’s upset. At least, Jack’s pretty hopeful that’s the case. And he knows Mac needed time to collect himself, to think over the news and deal with the fear of all that it could mean, but the fact that he’s out in this storm and alone on top of that…

Jack just drinks his coffee, reaches out to the bond to check it consistently for any change, and waits for Mac to come back.

He’s lost in thought for a good hour or two, trying to ignore the wind’s shrieks and roars against the house, when he hears a scratching noise at the back door, a sound too consistent to be the storm. He flies to the door, throwing it open, and Mac is there. His golden coat is almost brown from being thoroughly wet and when his honey bright eyes meet his there is so much sadness there.

He shuts the door behind Mac to close out the storm and kneels down to pull the wolf into a tight hug.

“Mac…” Jack breathes in relief, “come here.” 

Mac whines a quiet pitiful sound in his ear but he doesn’t squirm away from the hug. Jack pulls back a moment later when he realizes Mac’s entire body is soaked and probably a few minutes away from being a popsicle so he stands.

“Wait here.” Jack says, running for the bathroom and coming back with several towels. Mac is sitting patiently waiting for him, eyes on the ground as water drips off him and his shoulders vibrate with shivers. Jack briskly rubs Mac’s body all over with the towels, focusing on his ears, tail, and neck, trying to squeeze the water out of the sodden fur. 

When he’s got as much as he can, he wraps a dry one around Mac’s head and huffs softly. “Good timing, you’d’ve been a drowned rat if you stayed out any longer.”

Mac doesn’t respond, eyes still on the ground, and Jack realizes the connection is still gravely quiet. With a sigh, Jack touches Mac’s chin lightly to get his attention and when those eyes raise to his, he offers him a tiny smile.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Mac.” Jack promises. Mac’s amber irises flicker with something Jack can’t explain and it feels like a pop in his head when the bond reopens and a torrent of grief and hurt floods down to him. “Oh, Mac… I know.”

Mac whimpers again and Jack yanks him into his arms for another hug, one slightly less wet, and he doesn’t let go for a long while. Eventually Mac sags into him and the bond whispers a word to Jack.

SORRY.

Jack strokes the still damp fur of Mac’s cheek and shakes his head. “No don’t be… you were upset. I don’t blame you. You ain’t got a thing to apologize for. I’m just glad you’re back.”

Mac’s gratitude is a far off flicker of light in the residual clutches of cold. Jack pulls back from the hug after a moment.

“Listen, my knees are killing me here on the floor. What say we move to the couch and I’ll get you a blanket. I can heat you up something for dinner?”

Mac’s hesitation is momentary, but he agrees and when Jack stands he follows along to the living room. Jack notices almost immediately he’s limping and he stops him at the doorway.

“You’re hurt?” Jack asks, stooping over to look closer at the tender way Mac’s carrying himself.

NOTHING. The bond says in response but Jack’s not letting him brush it off.

“That doesn’t look like nothing. Have a seat and I’ll take a peek at it.”

Mac’s ears lay back in annoyance even as he hops up to the couch and Jack softens his request. “I’ve been worrying like an old woman about you for almost twenty four hours. Can I please see it? Just to know you’re really okay?”

Mac huffs a sigh but there’s a light agreement on his end so Jack kneels down and takes the bothered paw into one hand, turning it over carefully. The pad is nearly raw, scraped and cracked at the edges.

“Damn dude, that’s not a nothin’. Any others like this?” Jack presses but Mac shakes his head.

FINE. Mac promises, dismissive, and Jack raises an eyebrow at him.

“C’mon man, don’t be stubborn.” Jack pleads and Mac’s reluctance bleeds into compliance. He offers the other front paw and it too is irritated, not as badly as the first but well on its way there. “Just these two then?”

Mac nods and Jack pats his leg. “I can fix this in a jiff.” He goes to place his hand closer to the wound and Mac pulls his legs in like he’s trying to protect himself from Jack.

NO. He says firmly and Jack stares at him, perplexed.

“Mac, there’s no need to leave yourself in pain. I can help this.”

HURT YOU. Mac says crystal clear, and there’s old lingering regret behind the words. Jack gets it then. He’s afraid for Jack, afraid what it’ll do to him

“Mac this isn’t like our disaster trip through the scrying bowl. This injury isn’t life threatening. It won’t hurt me. But what will hurt me is knowing you’re letting yourself suffer for nothing. I swear, Mac. I’ll be fine. I haven’t lied to you before, have I?”

Mac’s golden eyes study him for a long moment and after some internal debate, he slides his paws back out to Jack. The throb of pain is suddenly present in the bond and Jack can feel how he was holding it back from before compared to now, trying to downplay it for Jack’s sake. Jack takes Mac’s front paws gently into his hands and focuses on the wounds, closing his eyes as he submerges in the energy of his own self.

It takes a moment, connecting to the heat of the raw skin and coaxing the flesh to mend under his hands. The tissue is pretty shredded and Jack’s glad Mac came back when he did. The damage would’ve been much harder to heal with an infection and running the field with open wounds would’ve guaranteed one. He passes his energy into the wound with practiced ease, closing the injury and drawing out the pain like thread from a ripped seam. When he opens his eyes, Mac’s eyes watch him with a soft sense of wonder.

“Better?” Jack asks and Mac nods, flexing his paws with a sigh. Standing, Jack pulls the blanket over Mac and takes a step back. “Good. Now how about some dinner?”

Mac looks at him, thinking it over, and shakes his head. TIRED. He says and Jack just chuckles. He goes to the kitchen to retrieve his now barely warm coffee and makes a fold over peanut butter sandwich. He sets it down in front of Mac’s nose as he sits down beside him. Mac looks at the sandwich and then him and Jack shrugs in response.

“I know, you’re tired but you should eat a little something.”

Mac sighs gustily and takes a bite, eyeing Jack.  
HAPPY?

Jack snickers. “Over the moon.”

Mac’s amusement is quiet but very real, and Jack feels like he can breathe again. They sit in silence as Jack turns on the tv, letting something mindless fill the background, but eventually he can’t resist trying to clear his conscience. 

“Mac, listen, I know you probably don't want to talk about this right now but about earlier…” he pauses as Mac’s previous contentment shifts to a swell of sadness. Jack has to swallow against his own upset before he can continue. “I know this situation looks bad, but you need to believe me when I tell you that not all hope is lost. Nothing about magic is a perfect hard fast rule. And I don’t intend to take a knee and run out the clock. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”

Mac stares at him and Jack can feel the way his mind wars between tentative hope and exhausted resignation. With a nod, Mac yawns and lays down, nosing Jack’s hand.

TRUST YOU. He says and Jack’s throat tightens in response because he can feel how the sadness abates to be replaced by a feather-soft reassurance. 

“Thank you.” Jack whispers back, truly touched. “I’ll do all I can.” He lets his hand stroke across Mac’s head, light and comforting as he did a few nights before as much for himself as it is for Mac, and he watches the snow fall outside till long after the wolf’s fallen asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Two nights later, Mac waits for the sunset, watching the overcast sky for the orange-red glow that’ll bleed into purple. The full moon already hangs on the horizon and Mac’s body is vibrating with the coming change. 

He watches as the purple starts to melt over the mountain landscape and he takes a breath as the familiar cold-hot rush of adrenaline hits him. Between heartbeats, he goes from sitting on furred haunches to sitting naked in the cold air. He rushes inside to find the clothes waiting for him, panting as his body adjusts to his current form again, coming off a small bit of fight or flight high. It’s an odd sensation, like he’s putting on a costume of himself, as much stepping into his own skin as he is his clothes, but it is a relief all the same. So refreshing to breathe deep and feel the pull of his own skin, to have the rush of cold that reminds him that he’s human and vulnerable but who he’s supposed to be.

“Does it hurt, when the change happens?” Jack asks, coming into the foyer now that Mac is himself. Mac smiles at Jack’s gentle frown, the older man clearly just worried for him.

“Not really. It’s just a rush. I’d say it’s like riding a roller coaster and getting to that first drop.”

Jack nods, looking fascinated, and then he asks, “so… have you given any thought to what we talked about?”

Mac nods. The night after the storm, when Jack had reminded him that the full moon was almost on them, he’d asked Mac if there was anyway in particular he’d like to spend his evening of freedom, offering to take him anywhere he’d like to go. And Mac had been thinking about it closely for the last two days.

“Well… If it’s alright with you, I’d really like to go spend an evening in a crowd or a bar or something like that. I just want to feel… normal.”

While I still can, Mac adds silently to himself. He knows Jack is determined to find an answer but the more he’s thought about it, the more likely it seems that this is probably going to end before Jack can find a solution. He won’t give up hoping but in the meantime, he’s going to do some living just in case.

Jack nods solemnly. “Tonight’s New Year’s Eve so you’ll get your wish for a crowd. Everybody and their brother’s gonna be out. And I think I’ve got just the place. Go get ready and we’ll get going.”

Mac is only too happy to comply. He takes the world’s fastest shower, unnecessary since the transformation is literally like putting on a brand new skin with no wounds or scars or dirt to be seen, but the hot water is invigorating. He changes into a pair of jeans and long sleeve shirt but Jack stops him at the door.

“Whoa dude, you won’t be warm enough like that hang on.” He comes back with a heavy leather bomber jacket, passing it to Mac with appraising eyes. “That should do much better.”

Mac slips it on and can’t help hugging it closer to himself, tucking his face down into it to inhale the leftover scent of Jack’s light cologne. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, truck’s warmed up and ready to go. You good?” Jack asks and Mac feels like he did that day with the first snow, his heart a rapid fire of joy and excitement.

“Absolutely.”

-

The ride out is longer than Mac expected but Jack assures him it’s worth the wait, following a highway East. They listen to the radio and Mac watches the dark snow covered landscape fly by outside, but he can barely stand the silence, and his curiosity has been bubbling over the last few days knowing he’d have another chance to talk for himself.

“So…” Mac starts, “I got to ask you about your work before, which I really enjoyed watching you do by the way. Thank you for that.”

“You’re great company so thank you.”

“But I didn’t really ask much about you. And I have to say, having been here for this long and knowing next to nothing about you, I’ve got questions that need answers.” Mac says and Jack gives him a worried look for a second.

“What kind of questions?” Jack hedges and Mac keeps his face serious.

“The important kind. The deep stuff.”

Jack takes a breath and nods. “I got nothin’ to hide. What’d you wanna know?”

Mac studies Jack for a moment, just enough to make him squirm and then he asks, “What’s your favorite movie?”

Jack’s surprised laughter bubbles out of him and Mac considers it a success. He hasn’t seen Jack laugh much since he’s been here and it’s a very pleasant sound. He wants to hear it a lot more.

Jack sighs as he calms, still smiling. “Alright, deep stuff, favorite movie… I gotta say Die Hard. What’s yours?”

Mac considers. “I haven’t watched a lot of movies since… so probably Lord of the Rings.”

“Never woulda pegged you for a fantasy guy.” Jack says and Mac snickers.

“Comes with the territory now.” They both laugh at that but Mac resumes his questions, enjoying the light mirth fluttering between them in their connection. “What’s your favorite food?”

Jack opens his mouth twice before he has an answer. “Toss up between cheeseburgers or pizza. Pretty fond of both.”

Mac nods sagely. “Hard to pick. I’d probably go with pizza. What’s your dream vacation?”

Jack thinks for a moment. “Probably going surfing in Hawaii.”

Mac stares at him, intrigued. “You can surf?”

Jack huffs a quiet laugh, “hell no, but that’s the point of vacations right? Go do something you never would regularly.”

“Fair point.” Mac agrees with a smile, sobering as he thinks of his next question. “When did you learn about your abilities?”

Jack’s eyes flick to him for just a moment, Mac only sees it because he’s studying Jack’s profile. “I’ve known about them since I was little. My mom said I healed up a barn cat’s broke leg when I was about four or five. Knocked me out for about two days and scared the shit out of her. I didn’t really have any control over it till I got older and it was limited but it made me realize I wanted to help people. S’why I went into the army, didn’t have the grades for med school, so I got trained to be a field medic.”

“That’s why you had all that stuff? From your army career?” Mac asks, remembering the chaotic afternoon of injured men and the way Jack had handled them all with steady hands and not a trace of fear. Jack nods. “How long did you serve?”

“Four years, three tours.” Jack says immediately but he looks uneasy discussing this, the bond suddenly very quiet between them, so Mac redirects his questions.

“And then you went into school for your degree. How long did it take you to get the herbal medicine degree?” 

Jack’s shoulders sag just a little, slightly more relaxed. “Three years of classes and a one year internship under a master. That guy was a prick but he taught me a lot so I’m grateful to him.”

“So you’ve been doing this work ever since. How long have you lived here now?”

Jack frowns, thinking back. “Little over fourteen years.”

Mac considers that. Jack looks to be in his forties so that leaves a gap in the years between his school and settling in at the ranch. So what was he doing between then? But then again he could be wrong about Jack’s age.

Jack laughs under his breath and says, “I can feel you thinkin’ over there, dude. You’re not gonna offend me, just ask your question.”

“Alright, how old are you?” 

Jack gasps in faux shock much to Mac’s amusement, “don’t you have any manners? You don’t ask people their age. What, are you an animal or somethin’?”

“Or something.” Mac agrees chuckling.

Eventually, Jack says on a wistful sigh. “I’m forty-five this year.”

Mac frowns at the way he says it, like he expects to start getting ‘old man’ jokes any second off Mac so Jack adds with a small smirk.

“It’s like old Indiana Jones used to say, it ain’t the years it’s the mileage.”

Not sure what to say to that, Mac flounders for another question but Jack cuts him off, pointing out the window as a large neon lit building comes into view.

“Let’s put a hold on twenty questions till after we get some grub.”

Mac can't help staring in wide eyed wonder at the brightly lit building before turning back to Jack. “A biker bar? You brought me to a biker bar?”

Jack eyes the parking lot full of shiny motorcycles and shakes his head. “Actually, it’s a dance hall saloon but they’re pretty busy it looks like. We can find somewhere else if you want?”

Mac shakes his head quickly, heart fluttering with anticipation. He’s more than happy with this spot, it’s just he hasn’t been around other people as himself in… awhile. Jack bumps his shoulder and there’s a sense of gentle ease spreading down the link to him.

“It’ll be fine, Mac. I promise. I got you, man.”

Mac believes him.

They head inside and it reminds Mac of that old movie Roadhouse. It’s a surprisingly large building, warehouse length, with a wide wooden dance floor glowing with orange and red light. The bar is packed to the brim with people both at tables and the bar top, a cacophony of voices filling the air with white noise under the cavernous thumping of a bass heavy rock song. People are laughing and cheering all around them, and Mac feels surrounded on every side, just the way he’d hoped. 

Jack guides him to the bar with a tap on his arm and they order a round of beer before finding a seat in one of the corner booths. A waitress comes along to them not long after and Jack orders enough food for an army, Mac balking at the thought of what the tab is going to cost. When it comes out to them it’s an assortment of junk food that fills their table and Jack slaps Mac’s fingers lightly when he reaches for it.

“It’s all mine, get your own.” Jack says with a hard stare, popping a fried onion ring in his mouth. Mac stares at him, shocked, and Jack’s hard stare melts into laugher, that bright hearty sound again, even as he slides several of the little baskets of food over to him. “I’m teasing you dude dig in. Try the onion rings, they’re my favorite.”

They eat and watch the crowd mingle and Mac finds himself enjoying watching the people while he savors every greasy bite of their food. The oozing mini cheeseburgers are outstanding and he makes a nearly inappropriate moan at the first bite. Jack laughs but does nearly the same thing for his BBQ sandwich and they both end up grinning at each other with equally amused smirks.

When they’ve eaten too much and they’re sitting back, Jack slides closer to Mac and offers his beer out in salute.

“To freedom.” Jack says just over the steady roar of noise and Mac clinks his drink to Jack’s. After they take a long pull from their drinks, Jack adds, “alright, you got to ask some of your questions and I’ve got one for you too.”

Mac nods. “Go for it.”

“Before all this happened, what did you want to do for a living? And is that still what you want to do when we get this figured out?” Jack asks and Mac can’t help grinning a little at the certainty of the way Jack says ‘when’.

“I don’t remember a lot about what I wanted to do when I was little. Probably astronaut or something like it. I'm a science geek, I think you already figured that out. In high school I hadn’t… really planned that far. I know I was looking at MIT for college but plans change right?” Jack nods so he continues, “but right now… if, when, we get this figured out. I don’t know. I’ve been like this so long, I’m probably going to be completely lost for a next step. I just want to be me again. If that happens, I’ll figure everything else out later.”

Jack smiles at him, just a faint hint of sadness in the link from him. “That’s good. Planning to take one day at a time. Man I wish I’d been half as smart as you at that age. Jesus that makes me sound like a geezer but it’s true. I was always rushing off, not lookin’ before I leap and I paid hell for it. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Mac. You’ll do some amazing things when the time comes.”

Mac can’t help blushing a little at that, offering a quiet thanks. No one’s really ever told him they had faith in him that way. Well not since before his mom died, at least. And that makes him think of another question.

“So, can I ask another question?”

Jack nods and waves his hand at Mac to encourage him on. 

“You’ve not really talked about your family.” Mac begins carefully and he feels a little spark of sad bloom across Jack so he hurries to add, “and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Jack shakes his head, studying the label of his bottle. “It’s all good, dude. Sorry to say, I don’t have any family left. I’m an only child. My dad died my first year deployed and mom went a few years behind him. I was just glad to be home with her when she went. I miss them, but they had good long lives and they went easy as you can. They’re buried together in an old family plot in California. They’re part of the reason I moved out here. The ranch belonged to a friend of dad’s who willed it to him and he willed it to me. I was just going to sell it, take the money and open up shop somewhere else but then I hung around and met some of the town folks. Met a girl. Sarah.”

Mac feels the bloom of sadness growing and he hates that it’s hurting Jack, this painful thing he brought up out of curiosity, but Jack doesn’t seem to shy away from it.

“We had a good thing for a while. Loved her a lot. But... life’s messy. I couldn’t be what she wanted me to be so she left. I don’t blame her. As much as we cared about each other, it’s probably for the best. She has her own gig in New York and she’s happy. That’s all I ever wanted for her, was to be happy.”

“And what about you?” Mac can’t help but ask and it saddens Mac that Jack seems utterly confused by the question. “Are you happy here?”

There’s a bolt of surprise from Jack, thrown off guard completely as he struggles to respond for a moment. After a second, he offers Mac a thin smile and nods, “I’m in a good place right now. Good line of work, good clients. Who could ask for more?”

Mac nods along but it doesn’t escape his notice that Jack didn’t really answer the question and he figures that’s probably a subject to leave alone for now. An uncertain quiet settles on them for a moment so he takes a drink from his beer, trying to decide how to redirect from this when Jack pokes him, gesturing at the back wall of the saloon.

“You ever play pool?”

Mac smiles. “No but I’d love to learn. Teach me?”

Jack drags him to the far corner and they pick a table when a group clears out eventually. It’s a quick lesson, little better than aim at the ball and hit it, but Jack tells him that the best way to learn is to be really bad at it first hand. They play eight ball, or rather, Mac watches Jack run the table like he’s a professional billiards player and while he fumbles to find a grip that will help him aim better. With a little wink that shows he was just showing off a bit, Jack resets the table not for a game but in a practicing pattern and he brings Mac to the front to try again. Mac struggles to find a good hold still and Jack comes close, standing behind him and grabbing Mac’s elbow to guide him to a better position.

“Here, move your fingers down a bit more and hold… like this.” Jack instructs, helping Mac slide his fingers down the stick to a new placement. “If you hold on too tightly, you’ll end up with worse aim.”

Mac tries to listen but he realizes Jack is almost holding him and it has his heart thumping around wildly. Jack gives him one of those patently kind smiles of his and steps back so Mac can shoot again and Mac immediately wishes he’d come back.

It hasn’t escaped his notice what a handsome man Jack is and, somehow, his resolute respect for him has apparently turned into a bit of a crush. He tries to tuck that thought away and focus on tamping down the little fires of attraction he feels when he looks at Jack. Jack is just trying to help him, he doesn’t deserve to have Mac’s infatuation dumped on him too.

He takes aim again and the cue ball completely misses the target so he stands and hands the stick over to Jack. “I think I better just watch you for a bit. Can you show me that back spin thing again?”

Jack obliges, sinking ball after ball with easy skill, and Mac watches, admires the way those hands know just where to be. Those hands, Mac can’t help but think in a soft fog of alcohol induced dreaminess, would know just where to be in any occasion. After a few runs of the table, Jack must catch a hint of his thoughts because he looks over at him in intrigue so Mac tries to find his focus somewhere other than Jack’s well muscled shoulders and it lands on a young man the next table over.

With an easy grin, Jack rejoins him to have a sip from a soda he’d switched to earlier and he nods at the younger man Mac’s pretending to be interested in.

“Y’know Mac, I might be old but I don’t judge people for their preferences. Though, if you’re goin’ to make a move, you should get a move on, you’re on the clock.”

Mac stares at him perplexed and Jack nods in the direction of the young man Mac was watching. “I’m not your chaperone dude, but the night won’t last forever. If you want someone to knock boots with, time to cowboy up if y’get my drift.”

Mac can’t help the blush that races across his cheeks when he realizes, maybe a bit stupidly, that Jack felt his earlier attraction and assumed Mac was feeling guilty because he thought Jack wouldn’t approve. At least that’s all he had concluded off Mac’s inept attempt to hide emotions.

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly, “oh uh I couldn’t do that. Not uh, not with a stranger anyway.”

Jack shrugs nonchalantly, understanding as always. “I get you. Hookups aren’t for everyone.”

Mac nods, swallowing thickly at the creeping disappointment that settles into him. Another first he’ll never have. “Yeah… I’d like it to be a little more than that. For a first time, at least.”

Jack’s eyes go wide as they land on him again. “First?”

Mac sighs and tries to shove his sadness down and away. Tonight was about his remaining freedom, not wallowing in what he can’t change. “Yeah well… can’t miss what you’ve never had right?” 

Jack doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just considering that, and he eventually sighs. “Well for what it’s worth, I'm in the same boat as you.”

Mac looks at Jack and the man shrugs. “I’ve had partners before but hookups aren’t on the table for me either.”

“Why not?” Mac can’t help but ask and at Jack's wry smile he adds. “That’s none of my business, sorry.”

Jack just laughs. “It’s all good man. Just commiserating with ya. It’s not something I’m ashamed of or anything. But my abilities aren’t always a gift. When you’re with someone like that, you’re ‘bout as vulnerable as you can be. It’s hard to keep walls up when you’re losing yourself to the moment and, in my case, it’s like openin’ a door. I can feel everything someone else is feelin’ but they can feel me too.”

Mac stares at Jack, slightly awed by the fearless confession. “Wow.”

“Yep. Mind blowing feelin’ when you’ve got a partner you trust. But not exactly a fun experience for a one night stand.”

Mac can imagine not. Having a complete stranger feel your every emotion while your… he stops himself before he can get too far with that thought. The last thing he needs is for Jack to see him trying to hide his physical reactions while he barely manages to disguise his emotional ones.

Fortunately for Mac’s sake, he doesn’t need a distraction or a reason to hide because the crowd creates one for him. The crowd begins to chant around them and he realizes that according to the clock on the wall, it’s seconds till midnight. Jack raises his can of soda to Mac’s beer in an offer of cheers and they join the crowd for the last five seconds.

As the new year strikes, Mac can only turn to Jack and laugh as whistles and screams of exuberance light up the air. It’s a perfect night, everything he could’ve asked for. The only thing he would change if could, staring at Jack’s laughing smile, is he wishes he was brave enough to lean in and steal a kiss.

It doesn’t take long for the crowd to wind down and dwindle away after that. When only a handful of remaining patrons dot the dance floor, Mac realizes their evening is drawing to a close and he can’t help himself from being a little disappointed. Seems like time is slipping away from him all too quickly now that he has a deadline hanging over his head. When he takes the last sip from his drink he can’t help but sigh.  
Jack sidles over to him a minute later and bumps his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Mac nods even as he shrugs. “Fine. Just… wasn’t ready for the night to be over already. But time waits for no one.” He finishes on a sigh.

Jack tilts his head considering before he offers. “Doesn’t have to be over if you’re not ready.”

Mac looks around at the now quiet bar and gives Jack a curious smile in turn. “Well I’m game for a change of scenery. What did you have in mind?”

The smile Jack gives him is humbly pleased. “C’mon I’ll show you.”


	13. Chapter 13

The dashboard clock of Jack’s old truck reports a quarter after one in the morning when they make the turn off. Jack glances over at Mac who is staring dreamily out the window, their bond a muddled mix of emotions coated in a foggy layer of distance thanks to the numbing effect of alcohol.

The path to the lookout point is a bit winding but despite not having been here for awhile, Jack still knows his way around, a muscle memory deep in his very soul. He hopes Mac likes this place, this small safe haven he comes to when he needs to take the weight of the world off his shoulders. 

They pull up to the picnic road stop and Jack declares, “We’re here.”

Mac looks over at him, as if startled, and follows a moment after when Jack hops out of the truck. He leads the way to a waist high stone wall and he’s rewarded by the sheer awe that blooms down from Mac’s end of the bond as they take in the view. It’s a pretty spectacular scene if Jack says so himself. This particular overlook is fairly high on the craggy mountain, off to the south side of the creek that edges around his beloved little town and all the people he’s come to care for in the last few years. Mac leans over the edge a bit to look at everything and when they’re blasted with a cold shock of wind, he leans back to look at Jack in exhilaration.

“This is amazing.” Mac says, barely loud enough over the wind around them. Jack agrees but if he’s being honest, he’s hardly paying attention to the landscape far below them. He’s far too entranced by the way Mac’s hair catches in the wind or how the blueness of his eyes flash against the backdrop of the night around them.

“Pretty great, huh?” Jack asks and just as Mac goes to answer, a blossom of fiery color dots the sky in the distance, a firework explosion a couple miles away but almost equal in height to their position. Mac gasps in surprised wonder and looks back at Jack like it’s Christmas morning before casting his eyes out to the sporadic fireworks beyond.

“This is beautiful.” Mac says, “how close is this to home?”

Jack can’t explain why his heart feels lighter hearing Mac call his ranch home, but he recognizes it’s probably just the alcohol in his system affecting his mind. He points outward to the two mountain ridges to their left.

“Just on the other side there.” Jack smiles as Mac squints in that direction, like maybe he could see through the stone to the little house nestled between the valley walls, then he turns his gaze back to the fireworks.

“This is really beautiful.” Mac emphasizes and Jack meets his warm smile with one of his own.

“Yeah… this is my little hideaway. I come here when I need to get away. It’s a good place to think, come out here to clear my mind and think about bein’ a small part of the world. No one comes here much these days, just an old pit stop on a scenic view of the mountain range.”

Jack watches as Mac stares down at the flickering lights of the tiny town below and he thinks Mac would understand a thing or two about being a small part of the world.

It doesn’t take long for the winter wind to kick up harder so they clamber back into the truck, blast the heater, but Jack doesn’t take them home yet. Mac’s still watching the way the fireworks dot the sky in front of them and Jack doesn’t have nowhere to be right this minute.

They sit in comfortable silence while the warmth of the heater sinks into them and Jack is nearly lulled into a trance when Mac whispers softly beside him.

“Jack… were- were you scared in the Army?”

Jack looks at Mac but Mac’s eyes are still far away, and for the first time in a few hours Jack can clearly feel what Mac’s thinking despite the fadedness of the drinks in his system. There’s sadness certainly but a surprisingly strong calm rests underneath it. He can’t think of a reason to lie to Mac.

“Sure. I was scared a lot. It got easier havin’ good folks to work around but… yeah. I was.”

Mac nods, sighing. “Did you ever think you’d die out there?”

The resignation in his voice and the bond sends a shudder through Jack’s spine and against his better judgement, he nods. “Yeah.”

Mac swallows loudly in the silence between them and when he takes in a breath, it sounds a little strained. “Do you… do you think there’s more… after?”

Jack can feel the way the sadness mingles with the resignation and focuses on sending as much soothing calm down to Mac as he can. He doesn’t want to see Mac fall into despair, especially given the pretty good night they’ve been having up to this point. “I think so.”

“But you’re not sure…” Mac clarifies and Jack sighs.

“I know where the boundary is. I’ve felt the place where life’s energy meets death’s void, but I don't know what is on the other side exactly. The handful of spiritual communication I’ve partaken in implies there is more than just our world. If anything, the magic plane proves there’s more, but what exactly… I’m not sure. It’s a journey we all take on our own, someday.”

Mac nods, adding quietly. “Some of us sooner than others.”

Jack can’t bear to hear the sadness in Mac’s voice and he looks so alone on the other side of the cab. He leans across the bench seat and drags Mac closer to him by his jacket into a one armed hug around his neck. 

“Listen, you don’t need to be worryin’ about this, okay? You’ve got a lot of livin’ to do before you got to start frettin’ over afterlifes so don’t waste too much time on what comes next Mac. Just focus on the day you’re living.”

Mac offers one arm around Jack’s shoulder, a brief hug along with a moment of flickering resolution, before he pulls back a bit. “Yeah… but speaking of day… we should probably get back to the house. I’m kinda tired…”

Jack wishes he knew how to lighten the heaviness hanging over Mac now but only a good night sleep will probably do that. With a nod, he pulls the truck out of the outlook area and makes his way down to home.

-

When they get home, Mac is snoring softly with his head canted back against the headrest and it takes Jack a good few minutes to situate Mac so that he can help him into the house.

Mac stays sleep-slack, barely awake enough to walk with Jack’s help, with one arm around Jack’s shoulder as he guides him to the guest room. Tugging the younger man’s shoes off as he helps him sit on the bed, Jack laughs under his breath a little when Mac sort of just falls backward into the cush pillows by the headboard, resuming his whisper soft snoring almost immediately.

“Light weight.” Jack mutters, stepping back to examine the mostly unconscious man. On instinct he goes to cover Mac with the comforter and is struck with the realization that Mac will be transforming back to his lupine form in a few hours. He doesn’t know what will happen if he stays in his clothes but given that Mac seemed to prefer to be naked before, it’s probably best for that to be the case now. Except, Mac is far too out of it to be of assistance.

Jack isn’t truly sure how he should handle this, especially given the circumstances. What if Mac comes to while he’s being undressed and assumes the worst? But then again, if he tries to give Mac a few hours to sleep, Jack might fall asleep himself while waiting and miss the sunrise. He debates for a moment, biting his lip, and with a sigh he essentially decides he should take his chances and just make it quick.

Leaning over Mac, he starts to undo the buttons of his shirt and he forces himself to think of Mac as a patient needing help, nothing else. He can’t afford to let the pesky, inappropriate thoughts he’s been having toward Mac creep in now. He can’t think about how beautiful Mac is, his clean shaven jaw or his soft blonde hair. He should not be thinking about the way those lips had looked so inviting when they rang in the new year together earlier tonight. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking about those fluttering moments of attraction he’d felt earlier, those were almost for certain alcohol influenced and nothing else.

But… what if they weren’t? No stop that, Mac is practically a kid compared to you. For crying out loud, the kid is a virgin, Jack should be fucking ashamed of himself for even allowing himself an iota of wanting here.

But when he tugs the shirt free from Mac, moving down to his belt and pants, Jack’s resolve is burning with all varieties of doubt. He moves as thoroughly as he can through the next steps, jeans and socks and boxers, and tells himself to touch as little as possible. It’s like unwrapping a single rose bud, he thinks, don’t touch the petals or it might be ruined. He knows a thing or two about ruining pristine things, flowers and hearts alike.

As soon as he’s done, Jack leans over to retrieve the comforter to fold over Mac’s sleeping form and he’s suddenly trapped by the weight of Mac’s arms around his neck. Mac’s eyes are barely open but he’s looking directly at Jack and the tiny smile he wears is peacefully innocent. Despite the disorienting fog of sleep, the bond is surprisingly clear and Jack feels Mac’s previously  
flickering attraction bloom into real desire. Jack realizes what’s about to happen a fraction of a second before it does.

Mac leans up, aiming to kiss Jack’s lips, and Jack just barely manages to turn his head so that the kiss lands more on his cheek than anything else.

“Stay with me Jack.” Mac whispers and Jack can feel that it’s an absolutely real request, even if it’s being made in the confidence of what is most likely a fragmented waking dream. 

And it makes Jack do something he hasn’t in awhile. 

He panics.

Jack pushes Mac back toward the bed, firmly but not forcefully, and he coaxes his power to the palm of his hand before letting the suggestion of slumber race outwards. Mac’s snoring within the next few heartbeats and Jack stands there for a few moments, frozen like a deer in headlights while he tries to determine what just happened. 

Mac had tried to kiss him. Jack had felt that it wasn’t a mistake, he heard Mac ask for him by name. 

After that, Jack steps out of the room quickly and decides he’s too tired to have a proper crisis about this tonight. He heads to bed after a cold shower and if he dreams of soft lips in the dark, he refuses to acknowledge it in the morning light.


	14. Chapter 14

In the days following the full moon and their little excursion to the bar, Mac notices Jack becomes a ghost in his own house.

Jack doesn’t eat with him, he makes sure Mac gets his food and then he disappears with whatever small ration he has for himself back to the study upstairs. The normal chores seem to be put on hold aside from absolutely necessary basics of feeding the animals. He takes a handful of appointments but most of his day is devoted to the study and at times the only reason Mac knows he’s still here is hearing the soft creaks of the chair against the floor.

It’s an odd flip in behavior, the obsessive compulsion to continuously go over page after page of the tomes on his desk. Mac knew Jack was resolved to the cause of breaking the curse but he had no idea that it would go to the extent of him becoming a nearly shut in recluse. 

He’s worried about the man, if he’s completely honest, and part of him wonders if he did something to cause Jack to be desperately driven to get him the hell out of here. It’s not that Jack is giving him dirty looks or anything, but something doesn’t feel right between them and he wishes he could simply ask instead of flashing words at Jack in hopes to get an answer.

Days go by in a steady procession. Mac does his best to be quiet and out of the house so he doesn’t disturb Jack, but the longer it goes on, the more he begins to worry for Jack’s sanity and health. Sometimes the bond brightens with little flashes of something curiously questioning and a vague itch to find more, but it always fades and the bond remains quiet. At the second week mark, Mac transitions from being out of the way to subtly checking in on Jack, trying to work out if he’s making progress or just making himself crazy.

Looking in on him for a few hours, watching the older man rub at his eyes tiredly and stretch his neck carefully, Mac determines only two things for sure.

One, Jack has done an insane amount of reading if the pile of books stacked on the floor, almost as tall as Jack himself, is anything to go by. Two, Jack needs to take a break. 

Like, needs a couple days of sleep, take a break. Mac doubts he’ll be able to convince him just by asking. He thinks and formulates a plan to get him outside where perhaps the sunlight and wind can bring the overly-focused man back to reality.

Mac waits for the next time Jack steps out of the room for a bathroom break. The second he hears the floorboards protesting his steps and the squeak of the door closing, he rushes into the study and finds the bigger tome Jack’s working through. Flipping it closed with his nose, it takes a little maneuvering to get it to the edge of the desk where he can grab it up between his teeth. It’s heavy, he almost drops it when he takes it’s full weight, but he doesn’t have time to waste. He hears the flush of the toilet and races out of the room, pausing at the top of the stairs to lock eyes with Jack when he comes out.

“Mac? Hey!” Jack shouts as he sees what Mac’s got. Mac doesn’t hesitate to rush down the stairs, heart racing as Jack pursues him, shouting the whole way. He runs for the backdoor, still open from this morning’s run, and he speeds out into the cold as Jack continues to chase him, all according to plan. Running full tilt for the barn, he turns the corner and sets the book on top of one of the feed barrels while he waits for Jack to come behind him. Truth be told, there’s not much of a plan from here, he doesn’t know what he’s going to say or do to explain himself, he just wanted to make the man come outside for a break. 

As the pounding of rushing feet grow closer, he runs to hide behind one of the open stall doors. Jack slows to a stop just inside the stable, glancing around for Mac when he sees the book but nothing else. 

Mac watches between the crack of the door to see what Jack will do, amused when Jack sets his hands on his hips like a disapproving parent as he scowls around at the empty area. 

After a moment, Jack turns his eyes to one of his horses. “Where’d he get off to, eh girl? You’d tell me right?”

Given that there’ll probably be no better chance, Mac sneaks out in a low crouch and rushes up behind him. Jack turns just in time as he leaps, but it doesn’t save them from sprawling backward to the ground.

“Mac!” Jack groans around surprised laughter, shoving at the sudden weight across his chest. “Dude what the hell!”

Mac can’t help but feel a little proud as the bond lights up with amusement on Jack’s end, the laughter that bubbles from his lips as he shoves ineffectually at Mac’s chest is vibrant and airy. He looks like the Jack he’s known these past few weeks. The real Jack.  
He leans down and snuffles wetly at Jack’s ear, just to tease, which gets the most hilarious surprised squall in turn before he's tossed off to the side.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that!” Jack growls as he rolls up to his feet, face bright with mischief. “C’mere!”

Mac barks a high sound of joy and spins a quick circle before he races out of range as Jack makes a grab for him. Jack’s own happiness is a second heartbeat in his head as he runs for the back entrance, the sound of Jack’s boots just behind him. He’s faster than he looks and Mac has to dart left, then right, and zigzag past Jack’s legs to stay out of his reach, pausing at the stable entrance to make sure Jack’s still following him. He’s both curious and suspicious when he realizes the man’s not directly behind him, and he stands alert, trying to determine where he’s gone. He's in fact listening so intently to any sound in the stable, he doesn't notice the sound behind him till it's too late.

“Gotcha!” Jack, who circled from the back to the front, crows as he grabs Mac from behind, hauling him off the ground with strong arms around his middle. Mac can't help the squeaked yelp that lurches out of his throat for being caught off guard. 

Jack sets him down, but he’s all smiles from his surprise victory, and he raises an eyebrow at Mac as if to invite him to run again. “I win?”

Mac’s not a sore loser so he concedes his loss by offering a bow of his head but he feels like the victory is his, given that he accomplished what he set out to do. Jack grins at him and offers an exaggerated sweeping bow in return. When he stands, he sets his hands on his hips and looks Mac over with a thoughtful expression.

“Not that I don't appreciate a little excitement, but is there a reason you wanted me out here?” the older man asks, eyes searching the stable in concern before landing back on Mac expectantly.

Mac sighs and glances at the book on the feed barrel before he lets his worry filter down to Jack in full force. TOO MUCH, he says firmly. Jack’s eyes squint at him, trying to understand, and when he glances between the book and Mac, understanding finds its way into his eyes.

“I see. You think I went a little overboard on the research?”

Mac snorts, rolling his eyes. LITTLE?

Jack’s head falls back as one of those warm laughs rumbles out in the cool air and warms Mac right down to the soul. It's good to see him laugh again, he can't explain why, but it feels like he can breathe comfortably again hearing it.

Jack shakes his head fondly as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, point taken. Way overboard. And for what it's worth I’m sorry I worried you. How about I take a break, we have something to eat, and I fill you in on what’ve found, yeah?”

Against his will, his tail wags at the mention of food and Jack’s answering smile is pleased. Jack grabs the book and gestures for Mac to follow him back to the house. 

The question of what to have for lunch has just been posed when they both catch sight of a vehicle making its way up the dirt drive. Mac sighs, a little frustrated. He just got Jack to take a break and now a client is going to get him back to work. Jack won't mind, but it doesn't stop Mac from worrying that he's going to push himself too hard.

The car doesn't appear to belong to one of the regulars, Mac notes as it pulls up to the porch, two people inside. He trots ahead to see who’s within and he can't help his own excitement when he sees Ida in the passenger seat.

IDA, he informs Jack via the connection and Jack looks a little worried as he walks faster to meet the car. He can feel that this visit is unexpected and Jack’s already mentally preparing for the worst.

Mac bounces up and down in greeting on her side of the car, scuttling back when the driver, a young stern faced woman, walks around and stamps her foot at him.

“Get back.” the woman snaps and Mac obliges even as Ida steps out, a cane in hand and a scowl on her face directed at her driver.

“Don't be rude to Mac. I’m on his turf, honey, not the other way around.”

“But Miss Ida…’ her escort says gently, “if he knocks you down-”

“Oh Mac’s as gentle as they come, he’ll do no such thing. He’s a therapy dog, right Jack?”

Jack nods as he comes over to give Ida a hug in greeting and to shake hands with the driver. Quick pleasantries are exchanged but Mac's too busy sniffing out whatever Ida has contained in a small basket in the crook of her arm, a sweet warm scent that reminds him of Bozer’s stress baking. She pokes his nose with a gentle finger when he sniffs too close and she winks at him conspiratorially. 

For a moment she listens to Jack and the driver talk before she sighs and interrupts, “Yes yes, alright, now I have business to attend to here with Mr. Dalton. Perhaps you could let us get on with it and you can resume nannying me in say an hour or two?”

“Miss Ida, your daughter-”

“Is a big mother hen just like me. I'll be fine here for a little while. Couldn't be in better company.”  
Ida promises firmly and the driver and Jack share knowing smiles.

“She’s an ornery thing ain’t she?” Jack jokes lightly and at the driver’s nod, Ida smiles a vicious grin in his direction.

“Ornery, yes. And spry enough to give you a few good licks with this cane, boy.”

Jack ducks his head with a wry grin before he leans in to wrap his arm around her shoulders. The escort leaves, promising to be back soon, and they all head for the house. After Jack settles them in the kitchen he turns to Ida with a cautious smile.

“Not that I don't love our visits, ma’am, but I wasn't expecting you today. Everything alright?”

“No, Jack Dalton. Everything ain't alright and you know it.” Ida tells him, glare trained on Jack as she sets her basket down on the table. “How dare you pretend you don't know.”

Mac freezes at the seriousness of her tone and glances at Jack, curious what he's done to earn that disapproving look. The heat of it melts away when Jack starts to stammer through the beginning of an apology and Ida grins, looking pleased to have put Jack on his toes for a moment.

“You forgot again. And I'm not about to let you get away with that.” Ida tells him and she unveils the cover on the basket to reveal a small iced chocolate cake. Jack’s jaw drops and he pulls his phone out to glare down at the date in confusion.

“Holy shit, you're right. I forgot.” Jack whispers more than a bit surprised. Ida’s amused laughter is the tinkling of a far off bell.

“Happy birthday, Jacky boy. Now sit your tail down so I can sing you happy birthday. Mac you're gonna help me, right boy?”

Jack shoots Mac a horrified look and if there was any doubt if Mac would, it's gone now. He trots over to Ida and when she begins to go through the first chorus line, Mac howls along with her in the most awful tone deaf version of ‘singing’ he can muster. Jack claps his hands over his ears and moans, begging for them to stop, but Ida only sings louder and Mac carries on with her because Jack’s going to suffer just a little for not telling him it was his birthday. It's not like he could do anything about it but at least happy birthday wishes were in order. When Ida finishes the song, Mac continues on for a few long seconds much to Jack’s and Ida's laughter and Jack pretends he's going to wallop Mac with the cane to get him to stop.

Jack gets them some forks and they eat off the small cake together. Much to Mac’s shock, Ida sets an unwrapped cupcake on the edge of the table and he stares at it in wonder when she waves him over to take it. It’s deliciously soft and moist as he takes it delicately, he wishes he could tell her himself it’s the best cupcake he’s ever had.

“Dog friendly mix.” She tells Jack at his curious look. “Wouldn't be much of a celebration if we couldn't include Mac, would it?”

Jack smiles at Mac, an honest easy thing that brightens his eyes in the best way and Mac can't help the joy that brings, the knowledge that Mac’s wanted here. “No it wouldn't. Thank you for this.”

“Happy to do it. Now, Jack, be a dear and break out the cards, would you? Can't call it a real party until we have some games.”

They end up playing only a handful of rounds between them while there is simple talk about in-town gossip and holiday stories shared. It’s the kind of talk shared between old friends, a companionship so at ease that the room is alive in the warmth of its presence. Mac knows he should probably leave the friends to their chat but he can’t help basking in the glow coming off Jack’s contentment. There’s a sense of peace and safety here listening to them talk and he wonders idly if this is what it’s like to have family. If it is, even if he never gets this for himself, he’s glad he got to share in it just a little bit.

Ida catches him watching her talk at one point and she beckons him closer when he wags his tail for her. Mac can’t resist the chance to have the contact so he puts his head on her knee as she coos over him, scratches his cheeks and his ears with careful hands.

“You taking care of this ol’ lunkhead for me? Keeping him out of trouble, right Mac?” Ida asks him, giving Jack a quirked eyebrow.

Mac sighs as those magic fingers run down into the thicker coat at his nape. TRYING. He says inside the bond and he doesn’t miss the way Jack has to hide a smile behind his can of soda.

“He does his best. I don’t make it easy on him.” 

Ida laughs, “I should say not. Bet your mother had some stories to tell about you, huh?”

Jack groans around a sheepish grin. “And then some. And she’d tell everyone who’d give her the time of day. I couldn’t have farted in the barn without her telling the whole county.”

The older woman nods quickly, her smile breaking wide and white. “Oh brother me too! I once had to endure her telling our entire church about me going with a cousin to our school dance. He was three years younger than me and he has two left feet. Thirty years later I’ve still got bruises on my toes. There wasn’t a soul in town who didn’t know. Ah but that’s what mothers do I suppose. They embarrass us the way we embarrass them, fair’s fair. What I wouldn't give to have one more phone call with her though.”

Mac feels the bond flare instantly and he glances up at Jack who’s eyes have gone distant suddenly, the older man’s mind clearly far away in thought that is thundering through the bond too fast to even grasp from Mac’s end. Ida seems to notice and she taps Jack’s wrist lightly in concern.

“Jack, you alright?”

Jack’s attention snaps back to the moment and he’s quick to replace the oddly shell shocked look in his eyes with something apologetic. “I'm sorry I got a little lost there for a second.”

Ida’s smile is honest but it flutters briefly, like maybe it'll break into a frown if she's not holding it just right. “I worry about you. You know that I hope?”

Jack waves a hand to dismiss the idea but Ida catches the one closest to her and the way she holds it firmly gives Mac the idea he should maybe let them have the room. They don't seem to be paying him much attention in favor of having a silent conversation between their eyes so Mac stands and stretches, yawning exaggeratedly as he pads out to the door, glancing back at the friends before he slips out into the cold for a quick patrol around the property. 

The wind has shifted to carry a sharp cold turn again and the smell of airborne moisture rolling in with the heavy gray clouds promises more snow. He follows the south-turn trail, nose to the ground as he sees a set of rabbit tracks in the soggy earth, and he pointedly doesn't let himself think about the fact that he might have to do this for real very soon. The reality, the nearly certain possibility that he’ll be doing this for survival and not a curiosity, makes him feel oddly sick so he pushes it aside. If it is to be, it's not like he’ll have much say in stopping it, so there's no use fretting over it now. He tracks the rabbit trail to a fairly hidden warren and he's just about to investigate it when a current of icy pain fires down through the bond with such force and speed he yelps in surprise. 

JACK! He reaches out through the bond as he turns to race back, grappling to find Jack on the other end and almost immediately the pain abates to a low hum in the background. 

I’m fine. Promise. Jack assures him and there's a soothing roll of ease that passes down to Mac, not unlike a gentle hand over his shoulders. 

SURE? Mac presses, trotting toward the house because he has to make sure. Jack’s end of the bond feels slightly muted but it doesn’t feel hidden so he tries to trust that all is well. 

He’s just come up the ridge and under the fence when he sees Jack guiding Ida outside and the car from before bouncing along up the driveway. Ida’s smile is visible even at a distance as he runs closer and even though he goes to Ida first, he looks Jack over closely. There’s a tiny push of reassurance from Jack, a soft promise that he is indeed okay, but his eyes are on Ida and, as he gets closer, Mac can see why.

Ida looks so tired suddenly, despite the smile, her face looks pinched with discomfort. She’s holding onto Jack’s arm for support, her breaths ragged and fast, but it doesn’t stop her from reaching out to beckon Mac closer. Mac noses her hand in greeting and she giggles a little, smile widening.

“There’s our good boy.” She whispers, stroking her hands delicately over Mac’s ears. The car pulls up, hissing to a stop in the dirt a few feet away and no time is wasted by Jack to get to her shuffled into the passenger seat. While Jack goes around to talk to the driver, Mac stays with Ida and lets her card her fingers through his fur.

“You’re such a good boy Mac.” She says around her breathlessness, leaning heavy into the passenger seat. “I’m so glad you’re here with Jack. He’s needed someone... around for such a long time. I need you to take care of him for me, okay? He needs you Mac... more than even he realizes...Can you do that for me?”

He doesn’t like how her quick exhaustion has stolen all the earlier vivaciousness from her words. She looks decades older suddenly and there’s a sadness in her eyes he can’t stand to see. He leans into the car and puts his head on her shoulder and one of her shaking arms snakes around his neck for a light hug. When he steps back he realizes Jack is waiting for him and he hops down and back, watching the older man give her a hug before shutting the door and sending the car on its way.

Mac watches how Jack’s eyes follow the car till they’re long down the drive and when those warm brown eyes finally turn to him, he can see how Jack is holding himself firmly together.

WRONG? Mac asks, lets the question hang and Jack sighs, heading back for the house while Mac follows him. 

Jack settles in on the porch steps, eyes on the gray sky around them and after a moment he says. “Ida is... really sick Mac. Terminally. Has been for a long time. We knew it was a losing battle but she didn’t want to go out on chemo and ventilators so she asked me to help give her a few more months of pain-free living so that she could enjoy the time she has left.”

YOU FIX? Mac asks, incredulous as the sadness thrums in his head.

Jack shrugs and studies his feet, clearing the thickness from his voice. “I’ve done all I can. Sometimes, these things just can’t be beaten. Believe me, man, I tried. I was able to give her some time but that’s all I can do.”

Mac feels like his heart is going to fall out of his chest. He stares after where the car went, a need to howl long and sad into the air welling in his throat but he won’t. This is Jack’s friend and he doesn’t have a right to give into his grief if Jack isn’t. 

Jack reaches over and bumps Mac’s shoulder with a very light fist. “It happens to us all. She’s made her peace with it. And it won’t be today or tomorrow. Could be weeks or months yet. No use fretting over what can’t be changed.”

Mac understands what he means but it hurts still and frankly he doesn’t know how Jack can be so calm about this. He’s still staring down the dirt drive after the car that carried Ida away and he hopes that this wasn’t the last time he saw her. He’s only known her a short time but he feels like she’s truly his friend, even if she doesn’t know who or what he really is.

After a moment, Jack stands and brushes his hands through the scruff that’s grown on his chin thoughtfully and says, “on a lighter note, today isn’t all bad news. Ida might’ve just cracked your case for us. Or at least given us another lead to follow.”

Mac turns to stare up at Jack and follows him back inside the house, up to the study. Jack sits down at his desk and shows him a large book, the words and symbols on the page some sort of broken Latin but Mac can’t make any sense of it. 

“Ida mentioned wishing she could talk to her mom again and it gave me an idea. You see I’ve just about hit a dead end on the research without knowing more details about how the curse came to exist. The next options for searching for information now is spiritual communication.”

Jack pauses to make sure Mac’s understood all of that and when he nods, Jack continues.  
“Trying to communicate with spirits beyond the veil is tricky and mostly useless because you can’t control who you speak to. You can request to speak to certain souls and sometimes you get lucky, but its almost a guarantee to be ineffective for us because the person we need to talk to is your mom, Mac. Soul energy that has passed by a decade or more is almost never intact enough to communicate. But I think we still have a way we can ask her.”

Jack flips to a few pages a little further in and points out the image of two people with their heads pressed together, with a cloud around them. “There’s a spell that can allow you to step into another person’s mind, more specially their memories. See, I think your mom might’ve told y’more about the curse than you know, Mac, you were just too young to remember. And you’d be surprised what we can hold onto deep in our subconscious minds. But there’s a catch.” 

Mac cocks his head as Jack sets the book aside, his expression serious as he faces him again. “It’s a two way spell. I can only see your memories if you can see mine.”

Mac waits for Jack to explain why that’s a problem, as his wary eyes clearly indicate. Jack sighs and says gently, “Mac, I was a soldier for a long time. I’m not ashamed of what you might see but… it’s not gonna be pleasant. And I’ll see everything about you too, man. It’s a… fairly intimate experience. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want to do it but I really think this is our best shot at finding out what we need to do to help you, man.”

Jack feels nervous and flustered in ways Mac’s never seen in these last few weeks here so he paws at his knee gently.

OKAY. Mac says firmly and Jack’ eyes snap to his in surprise.

“You- you’re sure? You don’t have to decide tonight. But I need to make arrangements for the spell so a couple days at least…” Mac cuts his rambling off by using his paws to brace on Jack’s knee so he can rise to be at the same eye level as him.

TRUST YOU. Mac promises as he did that night of the storm because there’s no one he trusts more to try to fix this. Jack’s nervousness fades into a soothingness that bleeds through Mac’s chest in the best way. It’s sunlight bright and twice as warm, a boundless gratitude.

Mac doesn’t have to answer, his own thankfulness is an echo in the bond and Jack rests his hand lightly on Mac’s head. It’s a tiny silent comfort but in the quiet of the study, it feels like so much more.


End file.
